A Pale Fire
by Welcome2MyWorldxoxo
Summary: "The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds" - Nicholas Sparks. A reclusive artist and a musician embark on a journey in NYC, but with their own twist. ExB Mature
1. Chapter 1

**AN****: ****Thanks ****to ****Angelz****1114577 ****and ****darcysmom ****from ****PTB ****for ****betaing****. ****This ****is ****my ****new ****fic****, ****and ****I ****should ****warn ****you ****guys ****that ****it ****won****'****t ****be ****like ****Who****'****s ****Your ****Papi**** (****i****.****e****. ****smut ****every ****chapter****) ****this ****one ****moves ****slower ****and ****will ****all ****be ****in ****E****POV****.**

**Playlist****: ****Monday ****Morning ****by ****Death ****Cab ****For ****Cutie****.**

_Summary__:_ "The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds - Nicholas Sparks. A reclusive artist and a musician embark on a journey in NYC, but with their own twist. ExB Mature

**WARNING:** Daddykink.

**A****Pale****Fire**

_**Chapter**__** 1**_

My fingers dragged along the spines of the books on the shelf, the feel of the worn leather beneath the calloused pads of my fingers soothing. The musky scent of books overwhelmed my senses and my ears strained for the sound of fluttering pages.

I strolled through the stacks, my thoughts lacking any real direction as my eyes took in the titles and authors presented before me. I had no real drive to purchase or even take more than a cursory glance at any of the books, but I needed to fill the unending silence banging around in my head.

On one hand I was thankful for the blissful quiet after a week of cluttered thoughts and pictures spinning relentlessly around my mind, keeping me awake with a paintbrush firmly gripped between my fingers.

I had reached the heights of what I could only describe as obsession, unable to leave my work for more than a toilet break. I could probably count on one hand the amount of sleep I had gotten while I was held prisoner by my muse. If it hadn't been for Carlisle constantly checking that I was eating and drinking, I more than likely would have keeled over from hunger or dehydration.

It had ended yesterday morning, my mind finally purged of every brush and stroke that my exhausted body could give. I had slept all day, waking up just as the sun was rising this morning, and forced my aching limbs to move.

I had showered and pulled on dark, faded jeans, pairing them with a rumpled henley topped with a button down, both sleeves rolled up to my elbows. My messenger bag, filled with my pencils, sketch pad, and trusty moleskin, accompanied me as I left my studio in favor of some fresh air, but I doubted that I would use them.

I wandered around the city with no real direction in mind, watching the world around me wake up. How I had ended up in a small, dusty bookstore hidden in the mouth of an alleyway somewhere in Greenwich Village I couldn't quite explain, but it gave me a sense of familiarity that soothed my rattled nerves.

As always, after coming off such a high as I had been on for the past week, I felt unsettled. My skin felt almost too loose around my frame, and my fingers refused to stay still, tapping and twitching with inactivity. My mind itched for some kind of occupation, but I was unsure how to settle it with my current absence of inspiration.

I felt like an addict in need of a fix, but I swallowed back the dryness in my throat, ignoring the burn for more as I let out a long breath. It wasn't hard to imagine why so many artists turned to drugs to replicate and prolong the high, but it wasn't something that I was willing to fall into.

I dry washed my face, still tired even after sleeping for so long, and meandered toward the exit, pushing the Ray Bans perched on my head down over my sore eyes. My Docs thumped against the creaky, wooden floorboards, stirring up dust as I turned my attention to the street outside, or as much as I could see of it through the unwashed window.

My fingers jerked, drumming a rhythm on the rough fabric of my jean-clad thigh, trying the rid myself of the tension bouncing around inside. I clucked my tongue, nudging it against the roof of my mouth as I exited the bookstore, the tinkling of the bell sounding like a siren to my sensitive ears.

I winced, raking a hand through the unruly waves of hair that sat atop my head before digging a crumpled carton of cigarettes out of my bag. If I hadn't fumbled, dropping the carton on the sidewalk with a curse, I never would have seen her.

I was on one knee, one hand reaching for my cigarettes when I looked up over the rim of my sunglasses. It was just a quick glance to see if anyone had noticed my blunder, and that was when I saw her on the other side of the street.

She was a flurry of color, her striped cardigan ranging from one end on the spectrum of color to the other as it hung loosely off her shoulders, the sleeves pushed up to her elbow.

Beneath her cardigan, she wore a belted black and green cotton dress that clung to her body like a second skin. With the way the material hugged her, I couldn't help but notice her full breasts and sensually curved hips.

The dress ended above her knee, rounding over her luscious ass before tapering off to reveal long, shapely legs, which I could already tell would feel so soft in my hands as they wrapped around my waist, and taste so good against my tongue.

Unlike so many women that conformed to society's view of how they should look, she wasn't skinny. An ignorant person might have described her as full figured, but to me she was bodacious. Her body was soft and voluptuous, her figure reminiscent of old Hollywood glamour, back when women actually looked like _women_.

Despite popular belief, women with curves were so much more attractive than the sticks that paraded around with flat chests or fake breasts they could only ever dream of having naturally.

Curvy women didn't need to flaunt their bodies overtly to be visually stimulating, they teased in a subtle, sensual manner even with layers of clothing on. They were made to withstand rough manhandling and harsh fucking in which they were bent over, hands gripping their fleshy hips as a cock pounded into them. With slight women, you feared hurting them, but curvy women could take everything you gave them and then dish it back.

A wise man once said that a woman without curves was like a pair of jeans without pockets; there was just no where to put your hands.

I wasn't sure what drew me to her, but I could feel the gears in my brain slowly turning as it came back to life. She was completely oblivious of the attention she had drawn, and not just from me, her head bent down with earbuds blocking out the world.

My heart rate spiked as she disappeared from view, ducking into a small, cozy coffee shop, and without thought to my actions, I scooped up my cigarettes and followed her. I pushed against the crowd, the unending stream of passers by working against me. It felt as though I was swimming against the tide, the undercurrent stubborn in its effort for me to move in the opposite direction.

I broke free, darting out of the crowd and across the road, ignoring the angry, impatient honks and yells from the traffic I had interrupted. I wasn't quite sure what was possessed me to follow her, but she had stirred something in me that had been dormant for a while.

A part of me protested against my actions, screaming at me that I wasn't ready for something like this, but a larger, stronger, part of me dragged me forward, overshadowing the other voice in its quest to make her mine.

It had been close to three years since I had so much as considered dating, let alone chased a woman. Unlike most, who surely had tales about cheating spouses or a bad break-up, I had simply woke up one morning and realized just how tired I was of participating in the meat market they called dating. I had informed my family that I longer wished to be set up on dates or pushed on any unsuspecting socialites.

It wasn't to say that I had suddenly turned asexual and never so much as looked at woman—I was a man and I knew beauty when I saw it—I simply lacked the drive to pursue any of them...until I saw her.

This nameless woman had not only woken my mind, but she had reawakened my body. It had been three comfortable years of just me and my palm, but she had stirred the beast inside of me, and it was eager to make up for lost time.

There was no bell to announce my arrival, something for which I was grateful. There was nothing worse than drawing unwanted attention to yourself, especially when entering a relatively full coffee shop. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, one hand grasping the strap of my messenger bag as I rolled on the balls of my feet, my eyes scanning the shop until they landed on her.

She had taken off the cardigan and removed her sunglasses, a few stray hairs falling into her face as she rested her elbows on the table before her, her focus on a worn paperback.

My eyes were drawn back to her body, the way she was leaning forward pushed her breasts up so that the plump, creamy swells were peeking out the top of her dress.

Her collarbone and the long column of her neck were bare, and I felt my body instinctively react to it. I could imagine my lips against it, marking, bruising, and owning her skin.

I licked my dry lips, letting out a long breath before focusing my attention on something other than ogling her. I could only hope that she would be unattached and open to the idea of at least talking to me since I was already passing the threshold of interested toward something more tangible.

She was oblivious to my presence as I slowly made my way over, her head bent down over her worn book. Her teeth sunk into the soft, pouty flesh of her bottom lip and I couldn't stop myself from thinking of those lips in other places, mainly on my body, licking, sucking, biting...

Her brows furrowed in concentration and I swallowed, fighting to come up with some sort of smart comment to get her attention when my tongue felt like lead in my mouth. I wasn't quite sure what was wrong with me. I was usually calm and confident. I prided myself on my limitless control, but, in this situation, I found myself clueless and a little stumped, a new kind of desperation pressuring me not mess this up.

I pulled my sunglasses up into my hair nervously and finally settled with , "Is this seat taken?"

She glanced up at me, tugging out her earbuds as her expression morphed from disinterest and mild annoyance to curiosity.

I was momentarily frozen, knocked off kilter by her beauty. Her dark hair–the color dancing between dark auburn and chestnut–was pulled up into a sloppy bun, a few tendrils curling and falling down around her face, the color striking against her ivory skin.

There was a light dusting of moles covering her exposed body, faint dots that spanned sporadically from her nose to her wrist. I was sure that to most they would be seen as a mar on what could have been potentially flawless skin, but somehow they just fit, and I couldn't imagine what she would look like without her beauty spots.

Her large, deep brown eyes were framed by long, thick lashes that swept upward toward her delicately arched brows. Her heart-shaped face had almost perfectly proportioned bone structure finished off by an elegant, straight nose. Her full, lush lips that almost appeared too large for her ethereal features once again grabbed my attention. They were so enticing that no word besides erotic could suffice in describing it.

"It depends," she murmured, her voice sweet, yet husky as she ran her eyes over the length of my body in a way similar to my own perusal. "Are you, or do you ever intend to be, a serial killer?"

Her expression was serious, but I could see the mirth dancing in her eyes. The corners of my lips quirked up into a smile, and I felt some of the tension drain from my shoulders.

"Well, I'd like to keep my options open," I deadpanned, finding my footing in the conversation. She rewarded me with a soft laugh, her smile growing as little dimples appeared in her cheeks. "But, if it's a deal breaker, I'm sure I can cross it off my list of future occupations."

"All right, then, since you made such a huge concession for your future on my behalf, you can sit," she answered, matching my humor with her own. Usually my humor was met with eye rolls or confusion, and I found myself further intrigued by the girl in front of me.

I slid into the chair across from her, a new kind of nervous energy buzzing through my veins. One part of me yearned to reach out and see if her skin was as soft and smooth as it looked, and the other part wanted to know how good she would look splayed out, naked, against my sheets. I shifted my hips, my dick twitching in agreement with my thoughts as I tried to rein them in.

She smiled and peeked up at me from under her lashes, which put my thoughts right back in the gutter they had just attempted to crawl out of. I could already imagine seeing her staring up at me, that same spark in her eyes as she kneeled, ready to take my cock in her mouth.

There was an aura of confidence around her that told me she was comfortable in her own skin, something I saw less frequently without the usual air of arrogance. Her eyes sparkled, the rich chocolate color showing her passion for life without fear. It was clear that she wore her heart on her sleeve, and I was thankful to have found her before some asshole had crushed her spirit.

"Can I buy you a coffee?" I asked, trying not to sound over eager, but fearing failure in that respect.

She hummed, cocking her head to the side, her lips pouting in contemplation. "No," she finally said with a slight shake of her head. "But you can buy me a large vanilla milkshake with whipped cream and chocolate shavings."

She batted her eyelashes at me playfully and I chuckled, running a hand through my unruly hair. She was like a breath of fresh air, so refreshing and real that I almost had to pinch myself to see if she was actually there. She teased me in a way that didn't leave me second guessing, or internally questioning whether or not she was actually interested, and that—in itself—calmed me.

"Well, when you put it like that..." I said before catching the attention of a waitress nearby and ordering it for her. She looked a little surprised, not having really expected me to really buy it for her, but didn't attempt to stop me.

She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest, forcing her ample breasts to become more prominent as she stared at me, trying to read me. "Since you're buying me a milkshake, I think it's only fair that I tell you my name," she stated, shrugging away any coyness in favor of a more direct path.

I nodded in agreement. "It is only fair."

"I'm Isabella, but I prefer to be called Izzy or Isa. Never call me Bella or comment on the Italian translation. It is not only cheesy, but it is annoying," she informed me matter-of-factly.

"Duly noted. I'm Edward, just Edward. I don't do abbreviations or nicknames, "I told her.

"Was your mother a fan of the classics?" she asked teasingly.

I laughed. "She claimed that the Bronte sisters were her soul sisters," I admitted.

Any further conversation was halted by the arrival of Isa's milkshake, which she immediately started to devour. I found myself enthralled, my eyes transfixed as she scooped up the cream with her fingers, slipping it into her mouth and humming in appreciation. The way her tongue peeked out to lap at the corner of her mouth where some cream had been caught made my stomach curl with heat and want.

My hand curled into a fist against my thigh as my cock strained uncomfortably against the zipper of my pants. I adjusted myself, shifting my erection into a more comfortable position as it throbbed, leaking pre-cum down my thigh.

She caught me blatantly staring at her as she ran her tongue over the front of her teeth, pausing her movements. Her dimples made depressions in her cheeks as she grinned, her eyes alight with amusement.

"Would you like some?" she offered, and I wondered how she could so cute and innocent whilst looking so fucking sexy at the same time. I wanted to fuck her and cuddle her at the same, a feeling, which while a little foreign, not unwelcome.

"I'm fine," I told her, my voice raspy and low. She shrugged, whirling her straw around the tall glass, mixing it all in.

"Your loss."

She focused her attention on her milkshake, giving me the freedom to allow my eyes to roam. The way the light hit her chestnut hair caused little hints of auburn to shine through, the silk like quality of it showing signs of extended care. I was no hair connoisseur, but even I could tell that it was natural, no highlights or dye added to accomplish its shine and color.

I had always thought of make-up as a woman's armour, and to see that Isa had foregone it, except for the little framing her eyes spoke volumes to me. I was beginning to see that what you saw was what you got with her, and it was a relief.

I couldn't quite discern her age—correctly guessing age was not a talent that I possessed—but she was younger than the girls I usually held an interest in.

"Either you're trying to Vulcan mind meld with me or I have something on my face, but either way, if you stare any harder, I'm afraid that you'll look right through me," she commented offhandedly.

I looked away, slightly embarrassed as the tips of my ears turned pink and I smiled sheepishly. "You know Star Trek?"

My change of subject was neither subtle nor smooth, but she didn't seem fazed by it in the least. She shrugged, her dimples once again coming out to play as she grinned, leaning her head against the hand propped up by her elbow on the table.

"I'm no expert on the subject, but I've always had a soft spot for Spock. There's just something about a man who's so calm and controlled no matter what the situation that does things to me. I mean, he comes off as intimidating and so smart, his dominance apparent, but there is also this softer side that comes out to play on occasion, especially with Jim. Those two had an epic bromance."

At the risk of sounding like a pussy, I was ready to admit that I had never seen anything cuter than watching her babble. The spark of passion in her eyes and the furrow of her brows as her mind whirred, sewing each thought together in an intricate design had me leaning forward, wanting to be closer to her.

She gave off this aura, this warmth, and anyone would be stupid not to want to be near her. She huffed out a breath, blowing a few stray hairs out of her face. I was surprised at her insight and how she'd phrased her sentences, the unspoken words woven into them speaking louder than anything she could have spoken aloud.

"Anyway," she concluded, "I didn't really mind the staring too much, but you do have me curious as to what had you thinking so hard," she said.

I teetered between truth and bullshit in my mind before deciding to just fuck it. If she could be honest from the get go, unafraid to reveal herself, then I could gather some of the same courage that she possessed and do the same.

"I was trying to guess your age," I told her truthfully.

My words must have sparked her own curiosity on the subject because she squinted at me, the same question that I was sure I had held, reflected back at me.

"Well, I'm old enough," she replied with a smirk, one eyebrow rising in a delicate arch.

"I know, I was just curious," I said, trying to brush it off.

"Well, in the interest of sating your curiosity, I am twenty-five, and before you say it, yes, I know that I look ridiculously young." She rolled her eyes at herself, but let one side of her mouth quirk up in amusement.

"Look on the bright side, when you end up on the wrong side of thirty like me, you won't complain about having a baby face," I teased.

She mock scowled at me. "I do not have a baby face. I merely have been able to retain my youthful good looks," she stated with a firm nod. "How old are you, anyway?"

I pulled a face. "Thirty-two," I admitted grudgingly.

She laughed at my expression. "Oh, come on, you're not that old."

"Old enough," I grumbled, secretly elated that my age hadn't turned her off. Seven years may not have seemed like a large age gap, but to some people, it was practically robbing the cradle.

"Old enough to be on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, it seems," she quipped. "I love the homemade tattoo, by the way."

I frowned in confusion, looking down at my arm, which was covered words, doodles, and even a fucking game of tic-tac-toe. Next time, I vowed that I wouldn't use permanent marker to curb my need to empty my mind.

"I ran out of paper," I explained sheepishly.

She laughed. "Spoken like a true artist. What's your poison?"

I was surprised that she saw the signs and put the pieces together about my occupation. Either she was an artist herself, or she was familiar with how we worked.

"Mostly sketching and painting," I told her.

She nodded, looking interested. "That's cool. I studied music at Cornell."

"Really?"

"Uh huh, I'm apparently rather talented when it comes to playing instruments. I can pick most up quite easily, but I focused on the Cello. I'm part of a local stringed orchestra in the area right now."

"Wow, that's a great opportunity. I'm almost jealous."

She waved me off, her wrist flicking daintily as though it was no big deal. "Oh, whatever. I'm sure you do pretty well."

I shrugged, not denying it. "The local art community has been kind in recent years," I conceded.

"At least it pays the bills," she pointed out, and I didn't feel the need to explain to her the small fortune my parents had left to me after their death, as well as my ongoing investments. Money wasn't something I liked to brag about, and I was lucky to have the opportunity to pursue a vocation without worrying about pay.

We chatted easily about music, books, and just about everything else, only pausing long enough for Isa to take sips from her milkshake. Our tastes differed a lot, yet they didn't clash too harshly. Instead, they sparked passionate discussions that ended with us each promising to give the other's suggestion a try.

She was smart, passionate, brazen, and unafraid to state her opinion, no matter the subject. The fact that she was well-versed in politics and current events, preferring to be aware of what was going on in the world around instead of burying her head in the sand like so many people made me more curious about her than I had been previously.

"It's so nice to be able to talk about these subjects without someone glaring disapprovingly because they don't agree with my opinion," I admitted. "But please, if I'm boring you we can talk about other things."

She waved me off with a graceful sweep of her hand. "I'm enjoying talking to you. It's refreshing to talk to someone who doesn't back down when I get opinionated," she revealed, a wide, relaxed grin on her face.

"You don't get that often?" I asked, unable to disguise the surprise in my tone. Her feistiness was a huge turn on, and any man in their right mind would rile her up just to see the fierce glint in her eye that I was sure translated well in the bedroom.

"You'd be surprised," she admitted. "My mother claims that I'm too curious and spirited for my own good, but I've always had a thirst for knowledge. I spend half of my time with my head stuck in a book learning and discovering new things, and the other half trying to experience them. I'm a naturally curious and competitive person, so I've always felt like I needed a jump start in everything so I can prove myself to others.

"Not that I don't enjoy the process of learning," she amended. "I've just always pushed myself to do a lot in a little amount of time. That makes me sound like a complete nerd, doesn't it?"

"You're cute when you babble," I blurted out, incapable of holding the words in. If it meant that I now had to search for my missing balls then so be it, but she had to realize just how adorable she was.

Her expression changed, twisting as she tried to muster up some semblance of annoyance, but failed, letting out a soft, embarrassed laugh instead. "Shut up. It isn't my fault that my words get away with me sometimes," She groused half-heartedly.

"Your mouth is quicker than you mind. That is a common disability. You should get your filter fixed before you end up with foot-in-mouth disease," I quipped, my tone full of mock sympathy.

"I'll see what I can do," she responded dryly.

Her phone chimed, interrupting our conversation, and she shot me an apologetic look before digging her phone out of her cardigan, which she'd slung over the back of her chair.

"Fuck," she cursed, her eyes scanning the text before shoving her phone back in her pocket. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I totally forgot that I have practice today."

I looked down at my watch, shocked at how much time had passed since I had first sat down. The conversation had just flowed so easily between us without any awkward lapses that it seemed as though minutes, not hours had gone by.

She slid out of her chair, slipping on her cardigan and gathering her things. "Do you have a pen?" she asked.

"Um, yeah." I wasn't quite sure why she wanted one, but I dug out a black sharpie from my bag and handed it to her.

"Give me your arm?" she requested, and I held out my arm without question. I didn't protest as she started drawing on it, smiling when I saw that she writing down her number on my forearm. She made a move to give me my pen back before changing her mind and pulling it back.

"I've just given you an excuse to call me. If you want your pen back, you know how to contact me," she said, giving me a wink before heading toward the exit. My eyes stayed glued to her ass and swaying hips until she disappeared out of sight, trying to memorize them, hoping the memory was enough to tide me over until I saw her next because there was no chance that I was not going to call her.

I stayed seated, my mind trying to catch up on the events that had just taken place. Isa had come into my life like a whirlwind, shaking me to the core and leaving me discombobulated in her wake.

I laughed softly to myself, letting my mind wander back and forth between the possibilities. Her number stood out boldly against my pale skin, branding my arm and I couldn't help but wonder how soon was too soon to call her.

A little thought niggled at the back of my mind, telling me that maybe she was what I needed, what I had given up searching for. I leaned back in my chair, contemplating my next move. I ran my tongue over my teeth, flexing my jaw as I rubbed my thumb through the stubble. My fingers resumed their tapping on my thigh as let myself slowly begin to hope.

While the future was not set in stone, I had a good feeling about her. Yes, she was younger and most likely less experienced than the women I usually dated, but she held great potential. She knew herself and was confident in what she had to offer, but as with every woman I knew that there was an insecure little girl hidden just beneath the surface.

I didn't know her story, and she didn't know mine, but I could hope that when the time came to reveal those stories and secrets, that mine wouldn't frighten her away.

**AN****: ****So****...****what ****do ****you ****think****? ****Leave ****me ****some ****love****!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN****: ****Thanks ****to ****Pain****Jane ****and ****darcysmom ****from ****PTB****f or ****beta****'****ing ****this ****chapter ****and ****making ****it ****look ****acceptable****. ****Thanks ****also ****to ****my ****readers ****for ****all ****the ****lovely ****reviews****! **

**Playlist****:**

**Two ****Is ****Better ****Than ****One****- ****Boys ****Like ****Girls**

**Way ****Back ****Into ****Love**** (****from ****the ****movie ****Music ****and ****Lyrics****)**

**A****Pale****Fire**

_**Chapter**__** 2**_

"Master Cullen," an annoyingly familiar voice called, attempting to pull me from sleep. I was swimming between consciousness and sleep, my mind hazy with images of large, exotic eyes and lush, pouty lips.

I groaned softly, flexing my hips and shifting my limbs, forcing my body further into the mattress. Tension curled its way around my muscles, winding and gripping them tightly as I slowly slipped from sleep.

"Master Cullen," Carlisle, my butler and self-proclaimed alarm clock repeated, his voice firmer this time.

"I'm awake," I croaked, my voice hoarse from disuse. I grudgingly peeled back my eyelids, my vision blurry as it adjusted to the change in light. I lay face down in my bed, my face partially burrowed in the pillows as I shifted lazily, stretching. I glanced over at Carlisle standing by my bed, a tray neatly balanced in his hands, the scent of coffee wafting toward my nostrils.

I cleared my throat. "What time is it?" I asked, resigned with the task of finding the motivation to pull myself out of bed.

I hitched my leg higher up the bed, causing the sheets pooled around my waist to slip further down, revealing part of my naked ass. I reached out, half-heartedly groping at the sheets, gathering them back up around my waist. I never slept with clothes on, the softness of my one-thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets combined with my extremely comfortable mattress made my body feel as though it was wrapped in a cloud.

Carlisle had seen a lot more than just a bit of my ass over the years, so the sheets slipping to uncover my modesty didn't bother either of us.

I winced, trying to ignore the erection pulsing between my legs as I flopped over onto my back, making sure that everything was covered. I hoisted myself up until I was reclining against the headboard, dry-washing my face as I attempted to wake up fully.

"It is just past nine-thirty," he replied, offering me the tray with flourish. I took it, mumbling my thanks as I picked up my steaming mug of coffee, letting my eyes fall closed briefly at the bitter familiar taste. I didn't care that it burned against my tongue, or that it was strong enough to raise the hairs on my arm, I couldn't start my day properly without it.

I turned my attention back to the tray, leafing absently through the mail that had piled up over the week. Most were requests for my presence at various benefits and fundraisers, and while I considered myself somewhat of a recluse, I knew that I would have to turn up to some of them. I had never been extroverted—I left that to my brothers—but the Cullen name still partially rested on my shoulders, and I wasn't going to let my parents down by hiding away. Instead, I made an appearance, supporting at least a few of the many charities and causes that our parents had.

Even from a young age, I could remember disappearing at the first possible moment, crowded places making me uncomfortable. It had never been the cause so much as the people that had made me wary of such events. I hated that supporting important issues through charity events were treated like the social event of the year where women gossiped rudely about each other's dresses, and men tried to find out just how much you were hiding in your bank account.

I generally left Eleazer, the oldest Cullen brother, to make the rounds at such things since he was the face and CEO of Cullen Enterprises, but I still had to make an occasional appearance.

"Your brother has been calling repeatedly for the last week," Carlisle commented as he worked his way around my room, picking up my clothes from the previous day that were strewn across a chair in the corner. "I informed him that you were indisposed."

I grimaced as he threw open all the curtains, the harsh change in light hurting my eyes. The view from my window made me privy to the city skyline and Central Park. The sun was out, its reflection glinting off the nearby buildings as it peeked through the clouds, making the city seem as though it was alight.

"What did he want?" I asked, tossing the mail aside in favor for the morning newspaper. It crinkled as I opened it, my eyes scanning the headlines to see what had happened since tyesterday.

If I had hoped the contents were better than the mail, then I was sadly mistaken. None other than my younger brother, Emmett, was splashed across the third page with some quickly thrown together headline about his latest exploit.

The man was a quintessential playboy and bachelor who was in for a rude awakening when the line of beautiful women willing to sleep with him ended, and all he was left with was a trail of broken hearts and some sort of fungus.

"He was inquiring whether or not you would be available to attend the 12th Annual Honors charity gala for the American Liver Foundation at the Plaza next week in his stead since he'll be in Southampton," he explained, pulling me from my musings.

"So there is no possible way that I can miss it?" I asked with a hint of exasperation. The last thing I wanted to do was get dressed up and rub elbows with a bunch of people who thought that they knew me, when they honestly couldn't see past the zeros in my bank account.

"It would be good for you to get out and socialize," Carlisle advised gently.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked defensively.

He quirked an eyebrow at my tone, but didn't comment, his expression as calm as always. "It means that, apart from your little outing last night, you have been holed up in your studio for the better part of the last two weeks."

His unrelenting gaze challenged me to argue with him, but I swallowed back a retort, knowing that he was right. If anyone else had told me that, I probably would have reacted negatively, but Carlisle was the only father figure in my life, and I respected him.

Carlisle had been with my family since I was a child, working at my parent's estate as the butler, but after their death and my older brother's subsequent takeover of it, he had resigned from his post. His excuse was that he was too old to be running such a big house, and I had jumped at the chance of hiring him as my own butler, though at times, he seemed more like my nanny than anything else.

Carlisle had always secretly favored me over my brothers, and while I had briefly suggested that he retire with a hefty pension, he had declined. For reasons I was sure that I could never quite understand, he loved his job and craved being useful.

"I suppose I can spare a few hours," I relented reluctantly. "Has my tux been dry cleaned recently?"

"Already taken care of," he replied, a hint of smugness in his knowing blue eyes, the corners of them crinkling as a slight smile turned up on his lips.

"Of course it is," I mumbled to myself as I finished my coffee. Carlisle cheerfully strolled out of my room, and I dragged myself out of bed, heading straight for my en suite. I took a piss before throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt for my morning run. I jammed a cap over my unruly hair and slipped on my Ray Bans before pulling on a pair of sneakers.

I headed out, jogging the short distance to Central Park to run my customary three miles. I let my mind wander toward Isa, the woman who managed to confound me.

I had never been so instantly attracted to a woman like I was with Isa, the electricity that crackled between us almost tangible. It was as though my mind had conjured her up, my imagination running away with me and creating the kind of woman that starred in my wet dreams. If I was being honest, it scared me a little, but I refused to let my wavering fear of commitment hold me back.

It had taken me a few days to work up the balls to call her and ask her out on a date before it drove me crazy.

I swear I had felt like a chick before my call and her subsequent acceptance, wondering if it was too soon to call or if I would seem over eager. My mind had spiraled out of control, over-thinking every scenario to the point of giving me a headache. It had taken me listing the pros and cons—the pros outweighing the cons by far—for me to finally man up and dial her number.

Our date last night had been nothing short of perfect. It had flowed with ease, lacking the usual awkwardness that first dates generally held.

My feet pounded against the ground, quickening from the slower pace I had been using to warm up with, and I breathed heavily through my nose, slowly letting my thoughts filter out of my brain until the only sound in my head was thump of my blood pulsing through past my ears.

I weaved along the path, dodging other pedestrians and joggers as I made the circuit around the park, passing by North Meadow and heading down toward the Jackie Kennedy reservoir.

The pace I was running was rigorous, yet I found it soothing. It allowed my mind to empty of all the unneeded junk that filled it on a daily basis, cluttering and taking up space. Sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down the side of my face, and my thighs started burning as I completed my second mile. I pushed myself to run harder, my skin flushing with exertion and my t-shirt sticking my chest uncomfortably. My steps never faltered; my lungs expanding and retracting as I took in a huge gulps of air.

I barely gave my doorman a second glance on my way back to my apartment on the seventeenth floor of the San Remo in the Upper West side of Manhattan. My mind was singly focused on obtaining a drink of water.

I practically sagged in relief when I saw Carlisle waiting for me, a water bottle and towel in his outstretched hand. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins as I grabbed the bottle from his hand, guzzling it down, uncaring of the water dripping down my chin.

I wiped my face clean, screwing the lid back on the bottle before leaning forward to place my hands on my knees as I attempted to catch my breath.

"Good run?" he inquired.

I grunted in return, giving him a jerky nod before heading toward the shower to clean the grime and sweat off my body.

Under the hot spray of the shower, I let my thoughts return to Isa. My hands ran smoothly over my body as I thought back to our date the night before, unable to stop the smile from curling up on my lips or my cock from rising.

**APF**

Nerves churned in my gut and my palms were sweaty as I made my way down 72nd street toward our designated meeting place. I was pleasantly surprised to find her already waiting for me, even though I was early.

She was oblivious to my presence, her body turned slightly away from me, and I felt something inside me snap. I was resolved to make her mine now that I had pushed away all my niggling doubts and reservations. This surpassed lust—though there was a lot of that—and I was compelled to find out just how deep our connection went.

She was dressed casually in a loose gray sweater that fell off one shoulder, leaving the pale ivory arch of her neck and shoulder exposed. The color made her skin look translucent, and I wanted to kiss and lick each faint brown mole randomly littering her bared skin.

The sweater hung loosely over her chest, hiding the soft, plump mounds of her breasts so that only a hint of their swells could be seen. The material draped over her narrow waist before disappearing into pair of ridiculously tight jeans, the hem tucked in on one side. Her jeans clung to her shapely, toned legs and fleshy hips, drawing in and accentuating her every curve.

My memories of her had not done her justice, her ass seeming rounder and perkier than I had remembered, just waiting to be squeezed and spanked.

She'd paired her clothes with heeled brown lace-up ankle boots that elongated her legs and a straw fedora over her glossy hair that fell down over her covered shoulder in a loose braid.

The urge to touch her was almost overwhelming as I came up behind her, the stems of the tulips I was holding getting crushed as I repressed the instinct. The scent of vanilla and cherries filtered through my senses, intoxicating me as I leaned forward until my lips were hovering near her ear.

"Imagine meeting you here," I murmured smoothly.

She jumped, whirling around to face me, a look of surprise causing her doe eyes, which to my surprise, were hidden behind a pair of simple black framed glasses, to widen and her lush, pink lips to part. A smirk slowly made its way across her lips as recognition flashed in her eyes, and she peeked up at me from under the brim of her fedora, her long, thick lashes curling up as she did so.

Her dimples deepened and her cheeks flushed with a dusting of color. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were stalking me," she teased back.

"Stalking is such a harsh term," I deadpanned. It surprised me how easy and seamless being with Isa felt. It felt natural and effortless, the electricity crackling softly between us just as it had the first time.

She laughed softly, the sound low and husky as I offered her the red and yellow tulips I had picked out for her. "Thank you," she said shyly, burying her nose in them and inhaling their fresh, clean scent deeply.

"So," she started, leaning into me, the feel and heat of her body pressed against my side causing my body to react in ways that weren't necessarily unexpected, but uncomfortable nonetheless. "What do you have planned for us tonight?"

Until that point, I hadn't realized just how short she was in comparison to me, her legs always seeming so long and slender, but up close, the top of her head barely passed my chin, and that was in heels. In actuality, she stood around a head shorter than my 6"2'.

"Do you trust me?" I asked her as she threaded her arm through mine nonchalantly.

She arched a delicate eyebrow, mirth dancing in her eyes as her full lips twitched in amusement. "Is this where you admit that you actually are a serial killer and have decided that I'm worthy enough to be added into your collection of skin suits?"

I barked out a surprised laugh, any lingering tension evaporating from my shoulders. "I think you've watched _Silence__of__the__Lambs_ one too many times," I informed her.

She shrugged. "My dad and I used to watch horror movies together every weekend. My mother hated it, but it was kind of our thing. He also taught me how disassemble and reassemble a Glock, and took me to the shooting range every other month to practice. He always said, 'Baby Girl, if you're going to live on your own, you're going to have to learn how to take care of yourself,'" she told me with a grin. "So, either way, I can kick your ass from this side of Manhattan to the other."

"Well, that's good to know," I said with amusement. "I guess that my skin-flaying kit will be useless then, huh?"

She snorted, causing her cheeks to darken with a blush as she covered her mouth, snickers escaping her. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "You just have a way of catching me off guard with your humor."

I chuckled. "Thank you, I think. I've always been told that it's rather dry and morbid."

She nodded in agreement. "It is, but it matches mine perfectly."

Her words made me bold, and I unwound my arm from hers before threading our fingers together. Her palm was so small compared to mine, delicate and soft where mine was rough and large. She glanced over at me, giving my hand a little squeeze as she smiled sweetly. We held each other's gaze for an immeasurable moment, communicating without words before I forced myself to focus back on the path before us.

"What were we talking about before we got sidetracked by serial killers and ass kicking?" I asked absently.

"I can't quite remember. I think I was asking you where you were whisking me off to," she supplied.

"Ah yes, well, since we're here, you no longer need to wonder," I told her, guiding her toward the boathouse of The Lake in Central Park.

"Doesn't this close at six thirty?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, but I know a guy, and he owed me a favor. I had to promise that we were both strong swimmers and that I'd leave it the way I found it," I explained, leaving out the part with the hefty bonus that I'd given him.

The rowboat was set up, blankets and pillows cushioning one side, while the picnic basket sat on the other.

"Wow," she murmured as I helped her into the boat before untying it from the dock. "This is amazing." She settled herself amongst the pillows, propping her legs up on one side of the bench as I sat down, grabbing the oars.

Excitement sparkled in her eyes as I pushed off the dock and rowed out into the lake. I had timed our date perfectly, the sunset flaring in color on the horizon as we sliced through the calm water.

We didn't speak as we basked in the glow of the receding sunlight. I stopped a safe distance from the shore and pulled the picnic basket forward as Isa tugged her shoes off, leaving her barefoot. She sat up, shifting to the side and patting the space beside her.

I barely hesitated as I shifted to sit beside her, pulling free a bottle of Riesling and two glasses.

"Wine?" I suggested.

She agreed easily, reclining back slightly after I'd popped the bottle open and poured her a glass, handing it to her. She took a sip, licking her plump, lush lips to catch a droplet at the corner of her mouth with the tip of her pink tongue. My eyes stayed transfixed, my mind conjuring up all sorts of dirty and depraved things involving her tongue, until it darted back between her lips. I reluctantly turned my attention back to my own glass, trying to ignore the dull throb of my cock as it twitched awake.

It was almost embarrassing the amount of time I had resorted to spending in the shower, my cock fisted in my hand since meeting Isa. I felt like a teenager, jerking myself regularly just so I could concentrate on other things that didn't involve Isa naked and begging for me.

I followed her example, relaxing back with my glass and not so slyly letting my arm rest behind her. She turned her body slightly, her right shoulder curling inward as she leaned her head against my shoulder, tucking her legs beneath her body.

Her sweater had ridden up over one hip, revealing a trail of black, silhouetted swallows tattooed there. Almost without consent, my hand reached out, sliding over the fleshy curve of her hip until the calloused pads of my fingers found bare flesh. The black was stark and bold against her pale skin, and I traced my finger over it, following the trail.

The electricity between us sparked upon contact, causing tingles to shoot through my palm. She gasped, her teeth sinking into her full, pouty bottom lip as goosebumps rose on her skin. My fingers dragged over her soft, creamy skin, my move forward, yet not rebuffed.

"Have I mentioned how lovely you look, tonight?" I queried softly, dipping my head down to speak directly into her ear. She shivered and shook her head.

My lips skimmed lightly over her ear and I inhaled deeply, her scent as intoxicating as the rest of her.

The rumble of my stomach pulled me from the trance I had fallen into, reminding me that we hadn't gotten to the main course yet. I pulled back slightly, shaking my head lightly as I tried to clear my head.

"I'm sorry. I don't seem to be able to quite control myself around you," I admitted, stroking my thumb in soothing circles over her skin.

She laughed softly, the sound husky yet sweet. "Don't be. I was as distracted as you were."

I couldn't help feel the elation of knowing that I affected her as much as she did me. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since I last saw you," I divulged, my voice low and rough as I opened up.

"I haven't either," she replied shyly. "I hope that you didn't think me too forward in giving you my number."

I chuckled incredulously. "Never! You only did what I should have. I seem to lose my wits when I'm around you, and it makes it very hard to think." My lips quirked at the accidental double entendre that had slipped through, though my cock agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment.

"Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as those fucking cute dimples appeared.

"You have no idea."

She laughed, her neck arching as she tilted her head back slightly. "We are quite a pair, aren't we?"

A laugh of my own bubbled up in response. "I suppose we are," I agreed with amusement.

"What else do you have in that basket?" she asked, changing the subject and reminding me that I was famished.

"Well," I started. "I wasn't quite sure as to your preferences, but you mentioned you liked Italian food." I took out the containers and some utensils before unwrapping the food. I had picked up some Fusilli covered in a green olive marinara sauce with fennel sausage and topped with fresh grated asiago cheese from my favorite restaurant.

She hummed in appreciation as I handed her a carton. "It smells delicious," she commented. I couldn't control my reaction to the way she moaned, her juicy lips wrapped around her fork and her eyes fluttering shut as she took her first bite. My cock jerked, hardening against the zipper of my pants, and I had to fight back a groan as I adjusted myself subtly.

"You know, if you'd passed this off as your own, I would have married you, no questions asked," she mused between bites.

I laughed. "It wouldn't have taken you long to figure out I'd lied, I can barely use a microwave. Carlisle does all the cooking for me," I told her, stabbing my food with my fork.

"That's your butler, right?" she clarified.

I nodded. "Yep."

"How very Bruce Wayne of you. I honestly didn't think people used butlers anymore. It seems kind of pretentious," she remarked.

I shrugged. "He's more like family than anything else. I've known him since I was a little kid, and after my parents died and my brother took over their estate, he came to work for me. He's always been a father figure for me, and he keeps me in line...well, at least he tries," I explained.

"Well, I'm glad you have someone to look out for you. My parents try. In fact, if my dad had his way I would have never left Boerum Hill over in Brooklyn, but I'm a free spirit, so it's hard to tie me down. My music is the only thing that can ground me," she revealed. "I lived in Paris for a year after high school. It was an amazing experience, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was truly free. I didn't need to worry about anything, and it was exhilarating. I spent a lot of time with Bohemians and artists in the little back street cafes, just playing music and finding myself. It was a whole new world, and I got my swallow tattoo to remind myself that freedom and happiness comes from within. It doesn't matter where I am or who I'm with as long as I have those things, I'm fine."

I nodded in understanding, letting my mind digest her words fully as I ate. I had always been a little restless, only able to find peace when immersed in my art, but her words struck a chord and pushed me to find peace outside of my art and in myself.

The conversation tapered off after that, each of us concentrating on dinner as the sun slowly sank down behind the trees. There was a certain tranquility as we bobbed around on the water, the ease in which we basked in the silence like balm to a weary soul.

Neither of us found the need to fill the quiet, the insects on the lake buzzing and the sound of people talking as they passed by the lake seeming like a world away. We shared the silence, filling it with small touches and little sighs.

It was with startling clarity I realized that the quiet I had enjoyed for so long in my self-imposed alienation felt empty compared to what I was experiencing in that moment by Isa's side.

Though I was reluctant to admit it, I coveted having a woman to wrap my arms around and hold close. I wanted someone to share private moments with. Someone that I could wake up to in the morning with our legs tangled together and her head resting on my chest.

I'd tried to deny it, placating myself with the knowledge that I enjoyed the quiet and reminding myself that I was alone by choice, but that didn't change the now glaringly obvious facts that I'd pushed aside. Yes, I was content with my life as it was, but I wasn't truly happy. My success was unfulfilling without anyone to share it with.

Even after we'd finished eating, we didn't speak. Isa laid her head on my chest, wrapping her arms loosely around my waist as she threw one leg over mine, snuggling into me. I plucked her fedora off her head, placing it out of harm's way as we gazed up at the sky, trying to find stars.

She was so small and soft in my arms as my fingers skimmed under the hem of her sweater, tracing patterns against her smooth skin. I nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent deeply as my fingers stroked over her slim waist

She stared up at me, the rich, dark chocolate pools deep and captivating behind her glasses as she dragged her nails through the stubble across my jaw, the dull sting of them against my skin doing nothing to cool my arousal.

"You have very beautiful eyes," I whispered, not wanting to break the silence. I smiled at the faint blush that worked its way up her cheeks in response.

"Are you going to continue flattering me for the rest of the evening?" she deflected in a teasing tone, her teeth sinking into the raspberry flesh of her bottom lip coyly.

"It isn't flattery if I mean every word of it," I corrected, daring to lightly dance my fingers along the edge of her jaw with my free hand. "Your eyes are like chocolates. Sweet, rich delicacies."

She sucked in a harsh breath, her lashes fluttering as she unconsciously leaned into me. "You know," she whispered, her warm breath fanning out over my neck. "You make it very hard to resist you when you speak like that."

"Then don't," I suggested, my voice as low as her own. Her eyes locked on mine, staring deeply into them as though she were searching my soul.

"I don't think I can," she admitted. I could see the conflict raging inside her, and I wanted to assuage her fears. I pressed my forehead against hers, sighing deeply as I let my eyelids flutter closed.

"I stopped trying to a long time ago," I murmured, willing bearing myself to her. I let her hear and feel the vulnerability that I held inside of me, silently showing that I had as much to lose as she did.

I could feel her shiver in my arms as I opened my eyes, staring into her own as I tried to convey everything that my words couldn't.

My gaze darted down to her soft, pillowy lips as they parted, and I cupped her neck, running my thumb over the hollow of her throat. I was suddenly desperate to touch her, to consume her. Every cell in my body screamed for me to act, to take this woman and make her mine.

She swallowed, her throat convulsing under my touch as she wet her lips, and leaned in a little closer.

"May I kiss you?" I asked, the electric current sparking between us tingling through my body.

She gave a jerky nod, angling her face closer so that the tips of our noses brushed lightly against each other. "Please," she breathed, her eyelids fluttering shut as my breath washed over her face.

I advanced slowly, closing the minimal gap between us until my mouth covered hers. The kiss was soft and gentle, almost reverent in its touch, a lingering brush across her lips. She exhaled shakily as I drew back slightly to gauge her reaction. I could feel her tremble against me, and a shaky breath left me in a whoosh of air.

There was no way for me to adequately describe that was happening between us, but the world seemed to disintegrate into fine dust when she was this close to me. It was as though we were suspended above everyone in our own little bubble, out of reach of even the elements that gave us breath for our lungs and warmth for our skin.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her pupils dilated as they met mine. She slid a hand around the back of my neck, playing with the soft ends of my hair. The heat of her touch caused a shudder to race down my spine as she drew me back in, her hand slipping through the thick strands of my hair, fisting it gently.

This time, I was more confident. The kiss was more firmer, her mouth wet and soft as it moved against mine. I could feel her surrender in the way her lips yielded beneath mine and her body softened, melting into me. A soft moan escaped her as I sucked the plump flesh of her top lip into my mouth, savoring her taste.

She tasted hot, sweet and spicy, like cinnamon candy, and I couldn't get enough of her. Her hands tangled in my hair as she practically pulled herself to sit across my lap.

My stomach twisted, tightening in want, reckless in its need to feel more of her. I kissed her like I owned her, and she surrendered willingly. She clung to me, her nails digging into my scalp as my cock hardened, pushing furiously at the seam of my jeans. Lust flared up inside of me, surging through my veins as my erection throbbed with blood, engorged and weeping for satisfaction.

It was with great reluctance that I pulled back, panting as I leaned my forehead against hers. My lungs screamed in relief, expanding as an adequate amount of oxygen finally entered into me. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and just take her, but neither one of us was ready to move our relationship forward in that manner, not when things were still so precarious.

"Wow," she finally murmured, her lips moist and swollen.

"I would say that I was sorry, but I'm not," I rasped out.

She gave an incredulous laugh. "I wouldn't want you to be sorry, not when you—"

She let out a squeak as I pulled her lips back to mine, cutting the rest of her sentence off. I was unable to help myself, and the loss and lack of control that I was exercising didn't frighten me, instead I welcomed it. I welcomed the lightheadedness and the colors jumping behind my closed lids. I invited in the way my body soared up, reaching heights that not even my art had ever managed to, but most of all I embraced the cool feeling of peace that washed through my veins, emptying my mind and spilling every thought into her awaiting mouth.

I couldn't begin to count the seconds, minutes, or hours that went by with our mouths fused together, and I didn't try. I felt like, for the first time, that I was revealing myself, standing raw, vulnerable and exposed before someone. Yes, my art showed what my words couldn't, but even then, they were hidden in subtleties and riddles.

It was harder than the last time to pull away from her lips, only the fear of passing out was enough to dislodge me from my admittedly comfortable perch.

"As much as it pains me to say this, I think we should call it a night before we get arrested for public indecency," I murmured, my lips feeling numb as I ran my tongue over them, her taste still lingering on them.

Her own lips were wet and swollen, their color darkened to a blushing pink. A dusty rose flush had spread from her cheeks down to her chest, bringing the fact that somewhere between our kisses her sweater had dipped down at the front. The plump swells of her ripe, perky breasts peeked out, teasing me with what I had yet to claim. I wanted to bury my face in her cleavage, to feel her soft flesh against my cheeks as I inhaled her intoxicating scent.

"I don't want to leave just yet," she admitted weakly. "Maybe we could go back to mine and talk some more?"

Every atom and molecule inside me screamed for my compliance to her suggestion, but even with the yearning in her eyes that I was sure reflected mine, I knew that if I were to start, I wouldn't be able to stop. I wanted to, oh how I wanted to, give in and let my body take over, but neither of us was ready for sex, not at this point.

"Not tonight," I ground out between clenched teeth. "Soon."

"Promise?" she asked, her bottom lip jutting out enticingly. I wanted to suck and nibble on it.

"I promise."

"All right," she conceded with a sigh. "I guess I should be getting home."

I didn't miss the disappointment in her tone at the thought of leaving, and though I knew I sounded like a pussy for admitting it, I felt the same. I rowed us back to the dock and helped her up from her seat, refusing to let go of her hand as I tied the boat up. I left everything inside, knowing I'd come back once I knew she was safely tucked away in a cab.

There was a new closeness between us that hadn't been there previous to our date, an unspoken knowledge that the foundations of our relationship were starting to solidify. We hadn't yet talked about what we were to each other, or what we each expected from the other, but those things seemed inconsequential right at that moment.

I walked her out of the park, the sounds of traffic filling the air. It had gone dark since we'd first come, lights shining everywhere in preparation for the night life that was only just beginning. I flagged down a cab for her, sticking my hand out into the traffic until one pulled up to the curb.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," I told her as she stood by the open cab door. "I hope that you'll allow me to take you out again sometime."

She nodded vigorously. "I'd love that. I had a great time tonight, as well."

I smiled widely, helping her into the cab, my hand never letting go of hers until she was seated comfortably. "I'll call you," I promised.

She grinned up at me, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. "You better, and this time, please don't wait so long."

I chuckled at her cheeky response, raking a hand through my hair. "I won't," I answered with surety.

I lingered for another moment before reaching into my pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill. "Take her wherever she needs to go," I instructed the driver, giving him the money. She opened her mouth to protest, but I interrupted before she could say anything. "Don't argue. I took you out, so I get to pay for your expenses," I told her firmly.

"One day I'm going to have to return the favor," she warned me as I took a step back.

"I look forward to it," I replied with a grin. I shut the door and smacked the roof, signaling for the driver to go. I didn't move from my spot on the curb until the cab turned the corner, the tailgates disappearing out of sight.

**AN: And there we have it, their first date!**

Q and A time!

Q: How long until these two have sex?  
A: Less than ten chapters.

Q: What's your update schedule?  
A: Every Saturday for as long as I have a beta'd chapter.

Q: What are these secrets that Edward mentioned?  
A: Can't tell you yet, but remember that I don't do heavy angst and I'm a wussperv HEA kind of girl.

Q: How long will the chapters be?  
A: somewhere from four thousand to probably around ten, depending on lemons and information needed for chapter.

Q: Where else can I find you?  
A: This story is posted also on TWCS under the same pen name. I also have a facebook account under the name Isabelle Kinza and a twitter account under the name Isabelle Kinza. I also have a tumblr Whoisyourpapi . tumblr . com for NSFW pics that are for inspirational purposes. *wink wink*

Nice to have that out of the way. Now tell me, what shall we call this Edward?** Leave me some love!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry that this chapter is late. I had friends over on the weekend and then I stayed the night at my sister's place in the city and was out all day yesterday .It completely slipped my mind that I supposed to update. Thanks to darcysmom and 2Shaes from PTB for looking this over for me, and all of you that took the time to review!**

**Playlist:**  
**Poison and Wine - The Civil Wars.**  
**Satellite - Rise Against**

**A ****Pale ****Fire**

_**Chapter**__** 3**_

I stepped out of the cab, squinting up at the dull, gray sky through my RayBans. I was in Soho at eight o'clock in the morning, standing outside Isa's building with two Starbuck's coffees balanced in my hand.

Usually, waking at any time before nine would have me ready to punch someone in the kidneys—I was a night owl and generally didn't get to bed before two—but I hadn't seen Isa since our first date a week ago. She'd been swamped with orchestra practice in preparation for some charity event, and this was the only time she had off.

I kicked the cab door shut behind me and jogged up the steps of her building. I buzzed up to her apartment before leaning against the low wall next to the door, placing the coffees beside me as I fished out a cigarette.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice crackling through the speaker.

I quickly lit up before pushing off the wall. "It's Edward," I replied, tugging my beanie lower over my hair almost self-consciously. I normally couldn't control the unruly waves, but this morning I'd been having a particularly bad hair day, forcing me to cover it up.

"Hey! I'll be down in five."

The corners of my lips turned up almost involuntarily, the pull between us telling me that I would be seeing her any minute.

"Kay, I'll be waiting."

I strolled back down the steps, pacing in front of her building as I smoked and drank some of my coffee, giving myself the time to fully wake up. Dragging myself out of bed before eight in the morning was not exactly on my top list of things to be repeated.

My head shot up as I heard the buzz of the door opening, revealing a tired looking, yet no less beautiful, Isa towing a muzzled pitbull behind her. A smile stretched across her lips when she saw me, her eyes hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses. I threw down my cigarette, grinding my heel into the butt as I gave her a smile of my own.

Edward," she breathed, practically skipping down the stairs toward me. I was somewhat startled when she threw her arms around me, but recovered quickly, returning the hug and burrowing my nose in her vanilla and cherries scented hair. It seemed so easy to avoid the awkwardness of what was acceptable second date contact with Isa. There was no need to navigate through the whole innocent versus suggestive placement of hands when she steamrolled right over all of it.

I pulled back slightly to look at her, pushing a few stray strands out of her face as my hands descended down her back. She seemed in as much of a hurry to pull away as I was, chewing coyly on her juicy bottom lip as she balanced on the tips of her toes. I tilted my head as our mouths gravitated toward each other, my nose brushing against hers as our lips connected.

Her lips were soft and plump as they yielded beneath the pressure of mine, and she pulled herself closer to me, letting her fingers dip beneath the collar of my shirt as they snaked around my neck.

She tasted distinctly like mint mixed with the sweet spiciness that was all her. My hands were drawn to her perky ass, grazing over the full cheeks until I had a handful of each. I groaned, darting my tongue out to meet hers as I kneaded her ass, pulling her further into my body. I was sure she could feel how my body was reacting to our closeness, but it didn't embarrass me. I wanted her to know what she constantly did to me, how she aroused me to the point of distraction.

We were both out of breath by the time we pulled apart, and my eyes couldn't help but move down to watch her plump tits heave beneath the thin fabric of her black Jack Daniels tank top and bra. I licked my swollen lips, stepping back out of her arms to try and calm myself down.

"You should probably drink your coffee before it gets cold," I commented. She nodded, her cheeks flushed as she stepped back.

"Caramel Cappuccino?" she questioned expectantly.

"Of course," I replied, silently congratulating myself for remembering how she liked her coffee. We may have not been able to see each other, but that didn't mean we hadn't been calling and texting whenever we had the chance. We were still in the process of getting to know one another, our likes and dislikes, and anything else we could think of.

She practically moaned when she took her first sip, a sigh of contentment leaving her. "Thank you," she murmured before the lead in her hand jerked by an impatient dog.

"Sorry, baby, I forgot to introduce you," Isa cooed. "Edward, this is Minion—Mini for short. Mini, this is Edward."

The dog trotted over to me, sniffing my jeans before letting out a huff and turning away.

"Don't take it personally. She's like this with all new people," Isa told me cheerily. "I was thinking of heading down to Washington Square Park. That's where I usually take her."

"Sounds good," I agreed, jamming my free hand in my pocket while using the other to hold my coffee.

"You're not a morning person, are you?" she asked, amusement clear in her tone.

"What gave me away?" I asked dryly.

"Your lack of verbosity and that cute little pout you're sporting."

I barked out a laugh. "I assure you, there is nothing cute about me," I told her.

"If you say so," she sang, leaning into my side.

I rolled my eyes and shifted the conversation in another direction. "Tell me more about yourself." I requested, suddenly ravenous to know more about the confounding, intriguing woman before me.

"I'm really not that interesting," she answered.

I shook my head. "I beg to differ. I find you very interesting."

"Really?" she questioned, glancing up at me.

I hummed around the rim of my coffee and nodded.

"Alright then," she acquiesced, her lips pursing as she thought. "My mom is an aromatherapist and my dad is a retired Army Ranger. They got divorced when I was around seven, but for like two years afterward they dated on and off. Even now, they're still friends, and they both live in the same apartment building, even with my dad being remarried and my mum seeing someone," she confided.

"That is strange," I admitted, trying to wrap my head around the logistics of how that kind of relationship would work. "Was it weird growing up with parents like that?"

"Not really. I mean, it's hard to explain it to people, but they don't feel the need to contend with each other to win my affections like a lot of divorced parents. I'm not their mediator. I'm just their daughter, and I know they love me. We still go on vacations together and all that, and I have a room in both apartments. They work better out of marriage than they did when they were in it, so I have no reason to complain."

I nodded, thinking how confusing that would seem, especially for a young child.

"My parents died while I was in college," I supplied, though it felt unnecessary. It wasn't as though their deaths hadn't been splashed across every newspaper and TV station. It had been a shock to everyone, and some people still hadn't recovered, Emmett being one of them.

She threw her empty coffee cup in the trash and laced her now free fingers through mine, squeezing them in silent comfort.

"Will you tell me about them?" she asked simply, her question earnest.

I sucked in a harsh breath; no one ever brought up my parents anymore. It was a subject people had long since learned to skillfully skirt around without being too obvious. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd talked to someone about them beyond a short comment of pride.

"Ummm, they were good people, busy, but that was to be expected. They tried to make time for us, but we were three rowdy boys that were constantly causing trouble. We were a handful at the best of times, and our mother despaired trying to control us."

"Eleazar and I eventually grew out of it, but Emmett is still trying to find himself while living in Eleazar's shadow. It's strange to think I've always been portrayed as the black sheep by the public when Emmett seems to be the one constantly finding his way into trouble."

"I can relate to that. I've always been a free spirit, unable to be tied down for long periods of time, but I've never seen it as a bad thing. My friends and family, on the other hand, would prefer if I settled down and popped out a couple of kids. I'm too young to tie myself to someone irrevocably. There is still so much of the world for me to see. I'm a bit of a spoiled princess with enough money to live a comfortable lifestlye, and call me selfish but kids have never been part of my life plan.

"I'm the only child, which means I've never learned to share. I can be a brat at times, but my friends and family usually call me out it and that stops me from turning into some sort of heinous bitch."

I nodded in understanding, watching the loose tendrils of her hair dancing around her face in the wind. She released Mini into one of the dog runs in the park before sliding her sunglasses down her nose, allowing me a glimpse of her eyes as she tucked them away.

"I'm glad you had that. If people had told me a little more often that I was being an asshole then I probably could have saved myself a lot of heartache, " I told her wryly, unable to hide the slight undertone of bitterness.

She didn't let go of my hand as she pulled me down beside her on a nearby bench. She didn't ask me to delve deeper into my statement as she played distractedly with my fingers, the silence settling comfortably between us. "You don't seem so bad," she responded after a moment of contemplation, tilting her head slightly to the side as she looked up at me.

Usually, I would have withdrawn into myself, but the warm hand on mine soothed me and made me nostalgic. I swallowed tightly, looking away briefly to gather myself before turning my attention back to her, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Not any more," I acquiesced, "but I used to be a little shit. I'm the middle child of three boys, and let's just say that everyday in our house was a competition to see who could one up the other."

"But you changed." She didn't poise it as a question, but as a statement laced with confidence. It was somewhat humbling to hear her unwavering faith in me, though she didn't fully know me.

"I did," I confirmed. "But I'd like to think of myself as a work in progress."

"Aren't we all?" she asked. "Life is all about striving to be better, to be more than we already are. I don't think we ever stop growing and changing until we die."

I mulled over her words, digesting and letting the truth of them settle somewhere deep inside of me, warming my soul with hope.

Isa tugged lightly at the gold signet ring on my little finger, drawing me back out of my thoughts. "Can I have a closer look?" she asked, looking up at me for permission.

I removed my hand from her grip, pulling my ring off my finger and handed it to her. She squinted as she eyed it closely, taking in the gold band with my family crest engraved into it.

"Tell me more about your brothers?" she requested as she gave the ring back.

I slipped it back on, thinking back to when my father had given it to me for my eighteenth birthday. It was a right of passage for every male Cullen to receive a signet ring at that age, a token of pride in who we were as a family.

"As I told you before, I have two brothers. Eleazar is the oldest and the CEO of Cullen Enterprises, and Emmett is...well, he's supposed to be preparing to take over the company in case anything happens to Eleazar, but he prefers to spend his time jetting around the world and sleeping with whatever woman will look his way," I told her honestly.

For reasons I couldn't—and never had been able to—understand, a slight uneasiness filled my chest when I spoke for long periods of time. It was like there was a voice in my head telling me to shut up and that no one wanted to listen to me blather on about my life.

"I'm not even sure why I'm telling you all of this. Most of it seems like pointless information that I'm sure you're bored just hearing about," I murmured self-consciously, one side of my mouth turning up as I ducked my head down.

She shook her head. "We all need someone to hear us, and I'm happy to listen. God knows there are times when you can't shut me up," she said dryly, completely unperturbed by my revelations. She didn't judge or even comment on what I had said, just sat back and listened like she had said she would.

"I think it's cute when you babble," I told her, regaining my confidence, which caused a cute snort to escape her. She flushed, holding a hand over her mouth as her dimples appeared, making depressions in her cheeks.

"You may think that now, but eventually you'll learn to just tune me out." I opened my mouth to protest, but she waved me off with a delicate flick of her wrist. "It's fine, I like to think out loud so I generally don't expect to get a reply. It's an embarrassing habit that I've never bothered to kick, and it helps me organize my thoughts better."

"So, I shouldn't be worried if you randomly start talking to thin air then? That's good to know," I said, humor evident in my tone. "I guess I should warn you that I sometimes disappear for days without warning when I get an excessive bout of inspiration. Carlisle tells people that I'm 'indisposed' when it happens, but it's better that you know what I'm actually doing so that there isn't some kind of miscommunication between us. I don't want you think that I'm blowing you off because I'm not returning your calls or anything," I explained.

Though neither one of us had actually confirmed that we were together, it already seemed like a foregone conclusion. We both knew that it was only a matter of time, and we paved the way for it.

"Thank you for the warning. I like you, Edward. You seem like a good guy, but I need to know where you see this thing between us heading. I don't want to invest myself in someone who is just after a quick roll in the hay. I don't do casual relationships, and I've never had the urge to be promiscuous. Even in college, I was too focused on my music to want to play the field. I know, compared to you, I may seem young, but unlike most girls my age, I don't feel the need to 'find myself' in the beds of every guy available."

I couldn't deny that I wasn't shocked by her blunt honesty, but I realized that though she lived with her heart on her sleeve, she was cautious as to who got to see it.

"Isa," I murmured, turning my body to face her more fully. "I didn't ask you out to get into your pants, if that is what you're worried about. I am past the point in my life where I'm willing to just jump into the bed with any female that looks my way. I'm looking for an actual relationship, and call me old fashioned, but I would prefer to get to know you before I take you to bed. That's not to say that I'm not attracted to you physically—because I'm sure that it's apparent that I am—but we're still in the process of getting to know one another. I'm a complicated person, and I want you to know me before we take that step," I told her, looking deep into her eyes so that she could see the sincerity in my eyes.

She met my gaze, holding it for a moment. "I want you to know me too. So, we're doing this? Exclusively? The whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing?" she questioned.

"If that's what you want," I responded, my body gravitating closer to hers as our voices lowered from the intensity of the conversation. My heart quickened in my chest and I held my breath, waiting for her reply.

"It is. Do you want it?" she asked quietly, her eyes darting down to my mouth as I rolled my bottom lip, sinking my teeth lightly into the flesh. My forehead connected gently with hers and the pads of my fingers dancing along the column of her neck, feeling the muscles contract as she swallowed.

"Yes," I breathed.

I'd been kissed many times in my life, soft kisses, platonic kisses, wet kisses, and passionate kisses, yet each paled in comparison to the ones that I shared with Isa. I wasn't about to start bullshitting about fireworks or anything like that, but when our mouths touched, our lips slanting over each other, I felt a new need that clawed at my chest, making my stomach twist and churn.

Heat surged through my veins, warming me from the inside out as flashes of light jumped behind my closed lids. A sense of possessiveness filled me, foreign, but not unwelcome. I felt as though a part of me already knew her, not as an acquaintance, but in the way a man knows a woman. A deeply seeded truth that was both personal and primary. It was the kind of truth Adam had shared with Eve the first time he opened his eyes after her creation. He knew her, not in knowledge or even in body, but in somewhere deep in his chest between his heart and his soul. She was a part of him, and he, in turn, became a part of her.

It was an uncomplicated and unassuming feeling, one that started as a spark—like that of attraction—but eventually kindled into fire.

There was something about the way our mouths moved, sharing warm, wet kisses that made me feel like more. She coaxed and urged me with hers, molding and fusing our mouths together as she enticed me to lead and take command with unwavering certainty.

A noise rumbled in my chest as her nails scraped against my scalp, snaking up beneath my beanie to find a firm hold on me. I loved kissing her, lush, juicy lips pressed against mine in a paradox of softness and density. She whimpered into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my body and traveling down to my balls, causing them to tighten as pre-cum leaked through the slit at the tip of my cock.

My hand, which until this point had been loosely gripping the flesh of her hip, moved upward. I dragged my fingers over her narrow waist, the heat of her skin through her thin top scorching the tips of them. I stopped just beneath her breast, my thumb swiping along the underside, tracing the shape of the round, plump globe.

She arched into me, panting against my mouth as she laid her hand on my chest over my heart. I was sure that she could feel it thumping, its pace quick and loud, and I wanted to tell her, to make her know that it was her that made it do that. She was the one that made my heart quicken, that made my breaths short and my skin flushed. The erection pulsing in time with my heart was her doing, her fault, yet I didn't blame her for it. How could I when it was God that created this perfectly formed woman before me. She may not be perfect or everyone's type, but she's my kind of imperfect and my type, and really that's all that mattered to me.

We eventually pulled apart, a distant catcall reminding us of our public setting.

"We really have to stop doing this in public," I mumbled, resting my forehead against hers. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like after we'd had sex if we were already this intense.

"We can try, but I doubt it'll catch," she responded before dissolving into a fit of giggles. She buried her face into my neck, her warm breath fanning out over my neck and jaw as she curled her body into mine, tucking herself against my chest.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching people walking past as the sun rose higher in the sky. The lust simmering inside me had been diffused to the point that my mind was clear and my erection had settled into a half-mast. It probably would have softened completely if not for the fact that she was pressed flush against my body with her enticing scent filling my nostrils.

"Do you want to go get some breakfast?" Isa asked softly.

"I wouldn't say no to some food," I replied.

She sat up, pulling away from me somewhat, and I forced myself not to reach out and bring her back. "I know a great place on 4th called Patisserie Claude. You'll love it. It's practically just around the corner," she told me, excitement laced in her tone.

I barely had time to open my mouth before she bounced off to fetch her dog. My lips quirked in amusement as Isa yelled for her, garnering a few strange, yet amused glances from others.

Naming her dog Minion was something that I was sure that everyone at some point wanted to do, but either it was too late or they didn't have the balls to do it. It made sink a little further into the mystery of Isa, the sky at the top of the rabbit hole disappearing from view.

Her hand slipped into mine, palm against palm as we strolled toward the exit.

"I swear you're going to love it," she continued, picking up from where she left off. "It's all authentic French pastries, and the owner, Claude, is a sweetheart. He used to be a little brusque with guys that came into his place, but he's gotten a little softer in his old age, and you might even pry a grumpy smile from him."

I chuckled lightly as she babbled on about her favorite kinds of pastries, including croissants, brioche and Pain au chocolat. I loved that she was so animated, speaking not just with her mouth, but with hand gestures. Her opinions were firm and unyielding, fierce and blunt in the face of opposition. She was like the moon, so bright and so beautiful, yet there was always a part of her that was hidden away from the casual observer. She put up a brave front, but something—call it an inkling—suggested to me that though she was the epitome of an independent woman, she needed something—or someone—firm to lean against.

We navigated our way through the streets, Mini trotted happily beside Isa. It didn't take long to reach our destination, the smell of pastries wafting through the open door as we stepped inside.

"Bonjour, Belle," the man behind the counter crowed as we made our way toward the counter.

"Bonjour, Claude. Comment allez-vous?" she spoke fluently, her lips wrapping around each word in a way that made my pants tighten. My mind was already conjuring up scenarios with her lips wrapped around something else, something that was currently pressing against the zipper of my jeans. She eyed the display behind the counter with a gleam in her eye, practically salivating over it.

"Très bien, merci. Et vous?"

"Bien."

Claude glanced over at me, his eyes narrowing infinitesimally as he regarded me suspiciously.

"Claude." Isa jumped in, diffusing the tension. "This is my boyfriend, Edward. Edward, this is Claude."

If asked, I would be sure to deny it, but hearing Isa call me her boyfriend caused something to shift and flutter inside of me.

"Nice to meet you," I said cordially.

He gave me a short nod before turning his attention back to Isa. "What will you be ordering today?" he asked.

She bounced on her toes as she moved toward the display, hemming and hawing as she tried to decide. "I think we'll order a little bit of everything," she mused. "That good?" she asked me, looking for confirmation as she peered over her shoulder, one brow raised elegantly.

"Whatever you want," I told her, content to sit back and watch her in element. She was confident and comfortable here, joking back and forth with Claude as he bagged everything she'd ordered. She inquired after his wife, teasing and flirting lightly with him in a way that caused a blush to light up his cheeks as he waved her away, an affectionate smile on his lips.

There was something about Isa—I wasn't sure what it was—that made it impossible to dislike her. She was quirky and unafraid of life. She was like a bird with unclipped wings, spreading them out and soaring above the city, the world.

If I was being honest with myself, she was almost too good for me, but she had chosen me, and that fact alone made me worthy of her attention. I wasn't under the misconception that our relationship would always be as easy as it was now, but if Isa was anywhere near as stubborn as I was, then we'd be fine.

"Au revoir!" she called as she grabbed the paper takeaway bag. She waved at Claude as we walked out of the Patisserie, and I took the paper bag from her grip, remembering to be gentleman.

"You should have let me pay," I told her as she untied Minion, causing her to roll her eyes at me.

"I told you before that I'd return the favor for the last date. I asked you to join me today, so I get to pay. It can be our first relationship rule. Whoever asks the other out gets to pay." She seemed very pleased with herself, and I wavered between mild annoyance and amusement. "Plus, it wasn't like it was that expensive at all."

"Definitely as stubborn as I am," I mumbled to myself with a shake of my head. "Fine, I see that there is no reasoning with you."

She took my hand and laughed softly. "We just came to our first compromise. You should be proud," she deadpanned.

I chuckled. "If by compromise you mean, I gave into you, then yes, we came to a compromise."

"It's what all good relationships are built on," she quipped, twisting around so that she was walking backward, our hands still entwined. "All you have to do is listen to whatever I say and agree."

I laughed. "I'm afraid you've got the wrong guy if that's what you're looking for. I'm more of a take control, be in control, kind of guy."

"Well, a girl has to mix it up every so often. If you have too much of anything it gets boring after awhile," she replied, a knowing twinkle in her eyes as her dimples came out to play.

"I suppose you're right. Unless its sex," I told her with a smirk and a wink. Her lips parted and she looked slightly dazed before she broke out in giggles.

"But there are so many variations and types to experience that it's impossible to get bored," she countered.

"You always have to get the last word in, don't you?" I asked, tearing a piece of brioche off the small loaf and popping it in my mouth. "Are you sure you're not a lawyer?"

A cheeky grin made its way across her mouth as she shrugged, snatching some brioche from me. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're trouble, do you know that?"

"Maybe you need a little bit of trouble in your life," she teased, lifting our hands above her head as she twirled, causing her skirt to swish around her legs. I let my eyes wander over the length of her legs, imagining them wrapped tightly around my waist or over my shoulders. They looked so creamy and soft, her height not diminishing their length. I got a glimpse of her slender thighs before she got tangled in the dog's lead and lost her balance.

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she fell into me, but she didn't shy away. Her eyes were alight with happiness as I dipped down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, loving the feel of her against my side. The way her head fit perfectly against my chest and her body molded to mine fitting like a missing puzzle piece made me feel light.

I thought back to her words about me needing a little bit of trouble in my life and felt a chuckle rumble through my chest, because if Isa was what trouble looked like then I'd welcome it with open arms, no questions asked.

**AN: Claude's on 4th street does actually exist, pastries and all. My brother came up with Isa's pitbull's name, and I couldn't help but use it. The general consensus on Edward's Ward is that y'all need more time, which is understandable, but don't stop trying. Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: What does your Bella look like?**  
**A: I'm creating a group on face for A Pale fire and I'll link you guys when its up. I'll post pictures of how she looks. Her body type is somewhere between Christina Hendricks and Kat Dennings (again pics will be posted.)**

**Q: How long until the kink starts?**  
**A: Next chapter, and I think y'all will be surprised.**

**Q: Will Edward invite Isa to the benefit thingy?**  
**A: No, and there will be a reason for that.**

**Q: You said no lemons till later, but are there any limes?**  
**A: Yes, the next two chapters have limes in.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks to darcysmom and itlnbrt from PTB from looking over this for me, and all y'all that took the time to review. I'm very excited about this chapter, and I think quite a few of you will be surprised.**

**Playlist:**  
**Space Bound - Eminem**  
**Blue Jeans - Lana Del Ray**  
**Change of Seasons - Sweet Thing**

**A ****Pale ****Fire**

_**Chapter**__** 4**_

"So, this is home," Isa said, unlocking the door to her apartment. She waved her hand with a flourish, as she dumped her keys by the door. I followed her, my curiosity piqued as I let my eyes roam. I shrugged out of my jacket as I perused her apartment, draping it over a nearby chair.

The walls were white, the wood flooring was a pale cream color, which would have made it look stark and empty if it wasn't for all the bright colors she had decorated the apartment with. Soft rugs littered the floor in varying colors, and the cream, leather couches had throws and pillows scattered over them. A hammock hung by the window, long drapes hanging on either side of it.

"I'm going to shower and freshen up real quick," Isa told me as she unclipped Min's lead and pulled her muzzle free. "Make yourself at home, and you can put on some music if you like. Just click on iTunes on my Mac. It's in kitchen."

"Okay," I agreed, glancing at the art—she'd chosen multicolored paint splatter—hanging up on the walls, framed in thick block color frames.

The place had an open plan, and I wandered into the connecting kitchen. The decor was the same as in the living room with white counters and cupboards paired with bright, colorful appliances and jars. The style was very 1950s with a small breakfast bar and vintage accessories. Her whole apartment seemed mismatched, yet somehow it worked.

I found her Mac at the breakfast bar, opening it up and drumming my fingers against the tabletop as the screen flickered to life. My eyes widened slightly in shock at what she'd left up on her browser and my lips quirked up in amusement.

I wasn't under the misconception that women didn't look at porn. In this day and age, you were hard pressed to find someone that _didn__'__t_look at porn.

I had to admit that the pictures were all very tasteful. Taken in black and white and angled in a professional manner that made the lights cast down upon the subject in a way that captured the heart of the photo. You could feel the passion oozing from the entwined nude bodies.

I let out a long breath, trying to quell the rising lust in me as I minimized the screen only to find another picture behind it. I couldn't help but wonder if this was what she had been doing while she waited for me to come. I ran my tongue over my suddenly dry lips as I imagined her sitting, legs spread wide as she masturbated, right here. I could practically just see her hand up her skirt, teeth embedded into her pouty bottom lip as she moaned and panted.

I minimized the second browser, finding a third behind it. It slowly dawned on me as I brought the first two back up and looked more closely, that there was a pattern, a theme, to the pictures. It wasn't your run-of-the-mill guy-with-oversized-cock-fucking-a-big-titted-woman kind of porn. It was kinky porn.

I scrolled down the page, words like BDSM and D/s jumping out at me. It seemed that I had stumbled onto Isa's dark fantasies. Her tastes mainly seemed to focus on Age Play with younger women calling their Dom "Daddy."

I couldn't deny that I was shocked by my discovery, but that didn't stop my hand from reaching down and palming my throbbing cock through my jeans.

I was quite familiar with the local BDSM community, here in NYC, having attended quite a few erotic art showcases, which included nudes tied up and gagged. I knew people who were involved in Dominant and submissive relationships, but I had never tried it myself. I had been told that I would make a good Dom, but I'd always found certain aspects a little much. I didn't get off on pain or humiliation, and the thought of engaging in contracted sex with someone that at the end of the day I had little emotional ties to didn't appeal to me.

Looking through the different blogs—it turned out that it wasn't just porn—reading the little snippets of information on Daddy Doms, I couldn't help but feel intrigued. If Isa was into this and wanted it, I wouldn't be opposed to trying.

I hissed as my hips rutted against the edge of the table, desperately seeking friction and reached into my pants. My cock was hot and hard in my palm, the length slick with pre-cum as I shifted it upward to settle in the waistband of my pants.

"Edward, did you find my Ma—" Isa skidded to a halt when she saw me; one of my hands was still in my pants. I looked like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Her eyes widened behind her glasses, and her lips parted as her gaze shifted from the computer screen to me and back again. A dark flush descended her cheeks, traveling all the way to her cleavage before disappearing into her top.

We both stood frozen, the tension crackling violently between us, the silence thick. It was obvious that she had taken a quick shower from the way her skin was still tinged pink from the heat and her hair—which was pulled back into a ponytail—dripped. She changed into a pair of tight, dark gym shorts with a burgundy Henley with the sleeves pushed up over her elbows, and thigh high socks.

"Oh God, this is so fucking embarrassing," she muttered, breaking the silence that cloaked the room heavily. She covered her face with her hands before releasing a long, drawn out breath. "I can't believe I left all that up."

She seemed to be more talking to herself than to me, but it was enough to draw me from position. I pulled my hand the rest of the way out of my pants and yanked my beanie off, raking my fingers through my hair.

I struggled to come up with something to say, my throat dry as I opened and closed my mouth uselessly. She came over, her posture defeated, and even timid. I stepped back as she reached for her computer, closing all the browsers, each one more explicit than the last.

Isa's vulnerability tugged me forward, my mind clearing partially from the lust clouding it as I stepped up behind her, my fingers danced lightly over her skin before settling on her hips. I pressed the ridge of my nose in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, swallowing tightly as I inhaled her intoxicating clean, fresh scent. I pressed myself against her, my throbbing erection nestling in the curve of her full, round ass.

"Do you...does that turn you on?" I asked softly, my voice low and raspy as I dragged my lips up toward her ear, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses along the path. She shivered as my lips brushed against her skin, her breath stuttering.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice tentative.

I spun her around to face me, grasping her chin lightly and nudging her face up so that I could look her in the eye as she gasped. She braced herself on the tabletop behind her, her body arching forward as her surprised gaze met my darkened one.

She peered up at me, her thick lashes curling up and casting shadows against her cheek. Even in their surprise, her eyes were deep and soulful, pools of chocolate swirling and melting.

My heart thundered in my chest as my pulse spiked, my breaths coming out uneven as the air sparked around us. "Do you want _that_...with me?" I questioned, laying my hands on either side of her, trapping her against the counter, my body, once again flush with hers.

Her eyes darted away from mine, her cheeks darkening further as white, pearly teeth embedded themselves into the soft, pouty flesh of her lip. "I...I've never-" She faltered, struggling to express herself in the wake of the revelation I had just uncovered.

I cut her off. "Do. You. Want. That. With. Me?" I repeated steadily, punctuating each word.

She glanced up at me, vulnerable and exposed as she searched my eyes. She let out a long breath as her eyelids fluttered closed, unable to look at me for fear of my reaction to her answer. An answer that would push us off the precipice we were currently situated. The enormity of the situation hung heavily between us we hovered at the edge of what could be a life-altering cliff. "Yes," she whispered so quietly that had I not been so close I would not have heard her.

I leaned in further, the weight that was pushing down on my chest loosening at her words. "Yes what?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

She swallowed, her mouth opening and closing for a minute before she pushed the words out in a breathless whisper. "Yes, Daddy."

All the breath in my body left me in a whoosh and I shuddered, my eyes falling closed at her words. I would have never guessed in a million years that being called "Daddy" would turn me on as much as it did, but it called to the dominant, possessive side of me that told me to direct and nurture her. She was mine, and I would take care of her.

"Do you have any idea what you calling me that does to me?" I asked, taking in her dilated pupils partially hidden beneath heavy lids.

She shook her head slowly, peeking up from under her thick lashes. I reached out, clasping her wrist in my hand and brought it down to my erection. My balls were drawn up tight, ready to explode with my cum as I pressed her warm hand to my granite like cock.

She gasped, glancing down as if she could not believe that I was hard. I groaned as her fingers flexed around me, gripping me through the thick denim of my jeans. My lips were hungry as I placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, slowly descending down to the graceful arch of her exposed neck.

"Say it," I demanded, sucking and nibbling on her pulse point. "Call me Daddy."

She licked her lips, dragging her tongue over them, the pink tip glistening with saliva before it darted back inside. "Daddy," she breathed, her voice low and sultry, and I twitched in her grip, hardening further.

I let my eyes drift downward, treating myself to the view of the swell of her firm, perky breasts peeking out of the lapels of her partially open shirt. My jaw clenched as I gritted my teeth, fighting to retain some measure of control, but I was barely clinging onto the frayed edges of it.

"I was right about you, Isa. Beneath all your confidence, there's a little insecure girl just waiting to come out, but you just don't know how to release her. You had to find someone, someone that could unlock that cage and set her free. Someone older and more experienced, someone unafraid of your desires," I said softly.

My words stripped away the layers protecting her, delving right down to where her deepest, darkest secrets were stored and throwing the door wide open. She was raw and vulnerable before me, trembling as her eyes begged me for what she could not yet vocalize.

"Please," she whispered, her words heavy and full of meaning. She used the one word to say a variety of things, but mainly she was pleading for me to not abuse the trust she was placing in me.

The fact that she was giving me so much of her trust in the first place was not only humbling, but also something that I would never dream of taking advantage of. I knew that, right then, the trust between us was still forming. It took time and patience to gain a deeper, more steadier trust, but I was a patient man when I needed to be, and I would nurture our blossoming relationship.

From what I had glimpsed on Isa's computer, a "Daddy" was a caretaker, both emotionally and physically. It seemed that not all of these kinds of relationships were sexual, though I had no doubt that ours would be.

As if to agree with that thought, Isa wound her hands in my hair and yanked my face up, planting a scorching kiss on my lips. As soon as our lips connected, it was as if every rational thought left my mind, and the only thing my brain could catalog was the fact that her lips were so fucking soft and full against mine. They were like pillows, yielding easily beneath the force of the harsh and passionate kiss I was granting her, yet retaining some firmness.

I didn't ask for permission, nor did I feel like I needed to as my tongue plunged into her mouth, savoring her exquisite taste. I was drunk on her, yet my body wanted more.

It was raw and brutal the way I possessed her, shoving my tongue further into the cavern of her mouth until it was almost down her throat. I devoured her without mercy, taking everything that she gave me without hesitation.

My hand trailed up the outside of her thigh, grabbing a handful of flesh where her thigh met her ass and hitching it up over my hip. I ground myself against her, feeling the heat of her pussy through the flimsy fabric of her shorts and my jeans as I sucked on her tongue, swallowing her moans. She mewled, clawing desperately at my arms and back as I pressed her harder against the counter.

It was only when my lungs tightened, protesting about the lack of oxygen that I tore my mouth away from hers.

"Do you want it? Do you want Daddy's thick, hard cock?" I hissed. She whimpered and squirmed against me, latching her hot, wet mouth to my neck. A guttural groan escaped me as she began sucking and licking her way down my neck. Her warm breath fanned across the hollow of my throat as she continued her journey downward. I let my head fall back and my eyelids flutter closed as I lost myself in the soft wetness of her mouth.

I grasped her other thigh, hoisting her up so that she could wrap her legs tight around my waist, just like I had been fantasizing about some I had first caught of her shapely legs. My cock sat nestled between her thighs as I stumbled backward, crashing into the opposite counter before turning and making my way back into the living room.

We fell onto the couch, me above her. Our foreheads knocked together as we bounced against the cushions, diffusing some of the tension radiating off us as we laughed quietly. I guided her mouth back to mine, but the urgency that had been there minutes ago simmered down, allowing me to focus more on how she felt and tasted than on unbuttoning my jeans and fucking her.

Her soft tongue wound with mine, twisting and curling, as I lowered my body to lay between her thighs. My hands, pulled by a force stronger than I was capable of controlling, gravitated to her tits, finally granting myself the privilege of touching them.

I cupped them in my hands, palming the full, soft, round mounds. I groaned at the realization that she wasn't wearing a bra, her swollen nipples straining against the thin cotton fabric. Isa might have been petite, but she definitely had more than a handful, and believe me, I had large hands.

Her back bowed, arching into my touch, and she whimpered as I thumbed her nipples. My hips pressed up, grinding my cock against her pussy in a steady, precise rhythm. My lips dropped wet kisses along her collarbone, shifting down toward my hands, as I pushed her shirt open further. Coral, silver-dollar nipples peeked out as I tugged the fabric beneath her breasts. They were like large perfectly formed ivory teardrops, perky and plump.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, panting and whimpering as I blew on her nipples, the sensitive buds tightening up further as I rolled my hips in a way that made my cock rub against her clit with each thrust. I was determined to make her cum like this, and judging by the flush of her skin and the tightening of her thighs around me, it wasn't going to take long.

I swirled my tongue around her left nipple, a groan rumbling its way through my body as her undiluted taste exploded against my taste buds.

"Please," she keened lowly, and bucked her hips desperately up into mine.

"What is it, little one? What do you need?" I asked, looking up at her. She was biting down so hard on her lip that I was afraid that she was going to bite right through it. Her hands lay limply in my hair as she returned my gaze, her eyes barely open as she panted heavily.

A thought came to my mind and I grasped her wrists in one of my hands, pulling them up above her head, effectively pinning her down beneath my body. She was helpless, trembling and squirming in my grip as her hips responded, grinding and rocking against mine.

"You like that?" I asked as her eyes rolling back into her head.

"Yes," she mewled.

"Yes, what?" I asked, or rather demanded.

She arched up, her breath fanning out across my cheek as her lips brushed against my skin. "Yes, Daddy," she murmured, her tone husky.

A shudder rolled down my spine and I thrust my hips harder against hers, knowing that I was as close as she was.

"I need you to cum for me," I gritted out between my clenched teeth.

A few thrusts later, her breathing stuttered and her body trembled as she threw her head back into the cushions. Breathless gasps and moans escaped her swollen parted lips and her eyelids fluttered closed.

"Motherfuck!" I growled, the pace of my hips faltered slightly as I caught her lips up in a barbaric kiss.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted against my lips, slowly unraveling in my grip until she came. She bit down on my bottom lip to stop the scream of pleasure from escaping as she shattered, her body shuddering.

I continued to thrust my hips, rutting erratically against her a few times before exploding, my cock twitching as stream after stream of cum spilled into my boxers.

My limbs were loose and weak, all the pent-up tension making me unwilling to move, but I somehow managed to drag our bodies so that I lay on my back so that I wouldn't crush her with my weight. We lay in silence, trying to catch our breaths as we came to terms with what had happened.

Isa twisted on her side to face me, an almost nervous expression on her face as she regarded me. "So..." she murmured, trailing off. I felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere around us, but I was a firm believer that most situations were only awkward if you let them be awkward.

"I haven't cum in my jeans since high school," I grumbled. My words had their desired effect as Isa started giggling. She pressed her face into my shoulder, relaxing from her tense posture before pulling back. She sat up, tugging her top back over her breasts and pushed the stray hair that had slipped from her ponytail out of her face.

"I guess we should talk about what just happened," she suggested, quirking an elegant eyebrow. I smiled at the return of her confidence and stretched my arms over my head, my orgasm having loosened all the muscles in my body.

"Sure," I agreed, folding my hands behind my head.

"I know we said that we weren't going to rush our relationship—honestly, I'm sort of glad we still have a relationship after you having found out about my little...quirk," she admitted.

"Would you have eventually told me about it?" I asked curiously, drawing little pictures on the exposed skin of her hip between her shirt and shorts.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I only found out about it like a year or two ago. It's been my little secret ever since. It isn't something that I would have ever easily admitted to anyone, and I don't want you to think that I'm thinking about my father like that when we were dry humping." She pulled a disgusted face, wrinkling up her nose as I chuckled in relief.

"That's good to know."

"I also want you to know that I didn't decide to date you because of our age difference. I do want to know you, Edward, and I want you to know me. I, personally, don't care that you're seven years older than me, but if we continue seeing each other, there will be talk about it amongst others. It could reflect negatively against both of us."

I internally congratulated her on her foresight. "When I look at you, I don't see a woman seven years my junior, Isa. I see someone that reminds of the good that is still out there in the world. I'm used to being stagnant and jaded by life, but you are so different, like a breath of fresh air, and it makes me want to be a better man," I told her, leaning up to get reacquainted with her swollen, puffy lips.

She hummed against my mouth, trailing her hands up and down my biceps, squeezing my lean, sinewy muscles. She pulled back before we decided to forgo talking completely, and I sighed.

"So, it doesn't bother you?" she whispered, her lips hovering centimeters from mine

My eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and her lips. "The fact that you get off on calling me "Daddy?" I clarified. She nodded slowly, her eyes once again searching mine.

I contemplated her words, thinking back to what we had just shared and mulled over how I felt. Yes, I had liked it, but I also thought that this was something we both would needed to acclimate ourselves to. We needed to work out our limits, and find a balance between our kindling vanilla relationship and this admittedly new side that had just sprung up.

"No," I answered. "_But__..._we need to work out a few things before we decide to just dive right into this."

"I know," Isa agreed, moving back. "I need you to know that I am independent. I don't mind working or holding my ground intellectually and artistically. I don't mind being told to stand on my own feet, and to do all I am capable of doing. But, as a woman, I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. As a woman, oh God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality, the touchstone, the command, and my pivot. I want to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a man, by his bidding, and I think that man is you," she rambled, her cheeks flushed as she poured her desires out before me."

Her words hit direct and center. Maybe I hadn't known it before today, but somehow I craved for what she had just described. This was what I had been missing and longing for in my life: a woman to connect with, a physical and emotional mate.

Her desires fed my need for control, and while I was inexperienced in this, I didn't doubt that we could find our own little niche. No two relationships were the same, and that went for both vanilla and kink. We needed to figure what we each wanted from this, and if those desires were compatible.

I shifted, my face twisting into a grimace as I remembered the mess in my pants. "Can I use your bathroom? My pants are kind of..." I trailed off, waving toward the crotch of my jeans.

"Oh! Of course. First door on the right. I may have some of my half-brother's clothes around here if you want to have your pants washed."

"That would be good. I need to clean up, and then we can talk," I told her, sitting up and throwing my legs over the edge of the couch. I stretched, craning my neck from side to side before propelling myself to my feet and walking awkwardly to the bathroom.

Once inside, I stripped off my pants and boxers, dumping them in the sink before yanking my t-shirt over my head. I stepped in the shower, hissing as the cold spurts of water hit me from the multiple showerheads.

I tipped my head back, raking my hands through my hair as the water warmed, soothing away the bite of the previous temperature. I closed my eyes as it cascaded down my face, letting my mind drift, shifting through all that I had discovered today combined with what we had yet to talk about.

I grabbed her shower cream, squirting some in my hand. The distinct scent of cherries wafted up to my nose and combined with the thoughts flickering through my head, it wasn't too much of a stretch to guess how my cock reacted, even after its recent release. I looked down at it, teetering back and forth as to whether I should take care of it or not.

My cock continued to thicken, rising higher until it was at half-mast, and I gave in. I let out a grunt as I wrapped a hand around the base my cock, my hips bucking forward in encouragement. I had to bite down on my lip to stop any noises from escaping as I slapped my hand against the wall for balance, pumping my cock quickly. I didn't tease myself or try to draw it out, I had just needed to release the mounting tension.

The veins along the length bulged as blood throbbed through my cock. There was something so dirty about masturbating when Isa was just down the hall waiting for me, and it made me even harder.

My fantasies of Isa had already evolved from my usual simple scenarios to much more complex, dirty ones. Things that I thought I would never do, or get the chance to do, popped in my mind. I imagined her gagged, her hair curled in two perfect pigtails as she bent over, her arms tied behind her back, leaving her completely at my mercy.

Her ass was red, an imprint of my hand standing out against her previously pale skin as I pounded into her slick, hot pussy.

"Fuck!" I groaned out, pressing my face into the arm pressed against the wall as my legs buckled. I panted, fisting my cock tighter as I swiped my thumb over the slit at the tip of my cock, the sensation causing a spark of pleasure to race down to my balls.

I bucked my hips up harder, my breathing shallow and coming out in fast pants. The pressure continued building higher and higher, making my balls tighten and my cock throb harder.

My eyes slammed shut, and my mouth fell open in a silent groan of satisfaction as the coil snapped and liquid heat filled my balls. I gave my cock three more pumps before cumming, thick ribbons of cum exploding from my twitching erection.

I spilled onto my hand and the tiles as I chanted profanities as quietly as possible. My body shuddered from the intensity of my orgasm, and I let my body slump against the shower wall, the water still pelting down on me, washing away the evidence.

I stood there for a moment trying to catch my breath. My body was calm and sated—at least for now—and felt a new confidence surge through me. I felt calmer and not so overwhelmed as I turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel. I rubbed it over my face and hair before letting it descend to my chest as I formed a battle plan in my mind.

I paused when I noticed that my clothes had been removed and a loose pair of grey sweatpants were neatly folded on the seat of the toilet. The realization that Isa had slipped in while I was masturbating caused my cheeks to flush before I pushed the embarrassment away. One side of my mouth twitched up in a lopsided smirk as I wondered what her reaction had been.

I hissed as the towel rubbed up against my cock, my flesh sensitive and raw from having been thoroughly abused. I didn't linger in the bathroom, throwing on the sweatpants and pushing my hair out of my face before exiting.

The sweatpants rested low on my lips, showing the "v" of my pelvis, the bottoms dragging on the floor around my bare feet. Since she had taken my t-shirt to be cleaned with the rest of my clothes, I was bare chested, making my tattoo visible. I had gotten it while I was abroad in Japan just after my parent's death as a clear reminder of them. They had both been a great admirer of Japanese art and culture, dragging us three boys on multiple occasions to Japan for family vacations.

I had chosen to have a large, koi fish, its head on the curve of my shoulder and its tail wrapping around my bicep. Waves framed it on either side along with red petals and small Japanese lilies. I had left it unfilled, deciding only to add color to the petals, while leaving the rest black. I took the towel with me, hanging it around my neck as I padded back into the living room where Isa was on her mac, lounging along the length of the couch, glasses perched on her nose.

She glanced up at me as I came closer, a shy smile on her pouty lips. Her eyes drifted over my exposed body, taking me in before she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. I noticed that she bit her lip a lot when she was aroused or unsure, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was wet right now.

"I found some sites that look helpful," she told me, tearing her eyes from my body and back to the computer screen as I made my way around the couch.

She shifted, curling her legs underneath her to give me room and I sat beside her, pulling her body closer so we could both look at the screen.

She let out a long breath as she rested her head on my shoulder. "You're sure you want this?" she asked quietly, a hint of lingering uncertainty in her voice.

I nodded my head confidently, dipping my head down to kiss her lips softly. "I'm sure," I confirmed.

Her eyes implored mine for a moment before she relaxed fully. "You really do," she stated with a relieved sigh. "Let's do this then."

**AN: Raise your hand if you're feeling a little hot and bothered. The A Pale Fire Facebook group is up if you wanna join. Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: You said that Isa didn't want to be tied down, yet she wanted to be in a serious relationship. How does that work?**  
**A: I obviously didn't clarify enough. Isa doesn't want to be tied down in the sense that marriage and kids are very low on her list of things she wants. Being in a monogamous, exclusive relationship is different.**

**Q: Is Isa playing at the Benefit?**  
**A: Now, if I told you that, it would ruin the surprise.**

**Q: Why the name Isa?**  
**A: I've gotten tired of the name Bella. In Who's Your Papi I called her Isabella or Bellezza. I like to change things up. She was actually going to be called Izzy, but I changed my mind last minute.**

**_Don't be afraid to ask questions, I'm happy to answer just about anything._**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 5**

**AN: Thanks to DeanWinchester-myheart and Shouvley from PTB for beta'ing this for me. Thanks for all of your reviews, they made my week!**

**Playlist**

**Christina Aguilera - Castle Walls**  
**Strawberry Swing - Coldplay**

**Disclaimer: Most of the information provided in this chapter was courtesy of the Internet (mostly Tumblr) and I do not own it.**

I wasn't sure what I expected, but I learned a lot, not just about BDSM and D/s relationships, but about myself as well.

I had previously not seen myself as an overly dominant man, at least not in the non-vanilla sense. I had always been the quiet, sensitive type, and while yes, I could be a bit of a control freak at times, I had never translated my behavior and attitude to be compatible with what was now staring me in the face.

In a few short days, my whole perspective of myself had changed. It wasn't easy to explain it, but as I delved deeper into the kinks and fetishes of a Daddy/little girl relationship, I found a piece of me that I had not even known was missing. A piece that seemed to slide effortlessly into place as I devoured the information greedily.

The fact that these kinds of relationships didn't have a typical dominant/submissive type arrangement instantly had me intrigued and curious, since I had witnessed Masters before and knew that kind of lifestyle wasn't quite for me.

Daddy/little girl relationships lacked the usual sadistic or masochistic tendencies. Not completely—there was still a fair amount of spanking, paddling and flogging—but you didn't find a lot of hard-core pain play, which was a relief.

I learned that in the category of dominants, the Daddy Dom was classified as the gentlest Dom. Unlike the harsher Master and slave dynamic—where the slave could never try to force the fact that their being there was a gift—a little girl could show the Daddy Dom that he was lucky enough to have found. Her submission was special, a gift.

The daddy figure had to command and earn the respect of his little girl. He had to build the trust between them and prove himself worthy.

I had been relieved to find that diaper wearing and bottle feeding were not a major—or even minor—part of these relationships. In fact, it was part of a different, similar fetish. Infantilism was the age play where the submissive partner played the part of a baby rather than the little girl that Isa was interested in.

I loved the fact that there was a bigger focus on intimacy—sexual and otherwise—than any other D/s relationship. Having someone to guide you through the vulnerability, someone willing to share in the fear was the focal point of D/s relationships, and the very definition of what intimacy was.

Though it was hard for some to understand, the dynamic was actually a way of nurturing and accepting love and care from another who was dominant.

Littles—the term generally used for this kind of sub—were cherished beyond compare, their Daddies often a wellspring of information. They could seek information and training on other things, such as career advice or money matters from them.

Lessons learned were reinforced with rewards each time the little succeeded in handling a difficult situation at work or at home. It was all about teaching the so-called little girl about life and how to live it responsibly, while allowing her to feel safe in little girl space when she needed it.

A few days passed by as I dug up every piece of information I could get my admittedly greedy hands on. I talked to Daddies, seeking advice on how to proceed and how to adequately separate the Daddy from the rest of our budding relationship.

It didn't take long for me to feel mildly overwhelmed, the enormity of the task I was attempting to complete far larger than I had originally thought.

I ignored Carlisle's curious glances at my strange behavior as I ambled around my apartment without much thought, just following each whim as it came. I tried focusing my attention on one thing at a time in a weak bid for distraction, but after a few hours of doing absolutely nothing but stew and brood, I forced myself to face the situation head on.

The facts were quite simple, and if I got to the root of everything, bypassing the surface, I could familiarize myself with it all.

Isa wasn't looking for a twenty-four hour kind of thing. Hell, before today, she had never thought that her fantasy was something that she would get to experience. It was something that we would both need to ease into.

She wasn't looking for someone to control every part of her life, either. She simply craved the ability to act years beneath her age as a perpetual prepubescent girl, and yet have the adult privileges of being sexually active. She wanted to run around like a teenager and be irresponsible sometimes while knowing that someone was watching and making sure that she stayed a good little girl. Sure, bad behavior would be met with a punishment, but she knew that her Daddy would not hold it against her.

Isa saw me as the person who could fulfill her need to be controlled, and all her other fetishes. She'd explained to me that she saw an intensity and confidence that simmered beneath the surface that drew her in when she first saw me, and while she'd never dreamed of telling me her secret desires, she had fantasized about me taking her in the way she imagined since we first met.

Isa contained the freedom and inner confidence to become the girl she desired, cute cotton underwear, bows, lace, frilly pink dresses and all.

I couldn't deny that, by the time I had left her apartment, her desires had become my own. We'd been somewhat forced to be completely honest with each other—it was the only way for this to work between us—and I'd sheepishly divulged that I had always fantasized about and had a thing for porn in which the girl was young and innocent, oblivious to her sexuality. She would be hesitant, slightly resistant to the older, more experienced man who would coax her in sexual depravity. She never once lost her innocent demeanor as the man took advantage of her, fucking and taking her any which way he pleased. It was always about pleasing him, making sure he was happy and satisfied, even if it meant denying herself pleasure.

I had admitted that the thought of taking her, using her, like she had so long fantasized, made all the blood in my head surge south to my cock.

Though I had been wary at first, I found myself quite partial to the thought of Isa dressed as the part of a little girl. If the pictures I had seen were anything to go by, I had lost all reservations when it came to how she would be dressed.

My mind was slowly coming to accept its new reality, and as long as I continued to remind myself that we were two consenting adults agreeing to play out this fantasy together, I embraced this new part of myself with quite a bit of excitement and anticipation.

I knew that at a moment's notice, Isa could turn the tables on me, switching our roles around. Just one taste of her exquisite flesh brought me to my proverbial knees, and I didn't doubt that she knew that. I was, after all, only a man.

We were both people very in tune with our bodies and their desires, and though Isa could play me like a puppet on a string, she wouldn't. The why was quite simple.

It wasn't what she wanted, what she craved. Sure, maybe occasionally she'd take control, seduce me and have her way with me, but, in the long run, she'd be miserable always taking the lead. Underneath everything, she was a natural submissive, and as such, she needed a man such as myself to take the reins.

She didn't _need_ or require the power she wielded. She longed to be owned, but needed to be cherished and taken care of. While the dynamic of Master and pet provided that to a certain extent, Daddy/little girl relationships focused heavily on the emotional aspect of it all, and that was what had drawn her to it.

Maybe for some it would be difficult to understand why anyone would want to envision sleeping with "daddy", but as long as the lines were clear, Daddy was not_daddy_ and the little girl was not the young teen being used on his whim, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it.

Isa had been very clear in explaining that she didn't want to use me to just fulfill her dark desires. She wanted me in every facet of her life, just more dominant behind closed doors.

We would still be dating as any other couple would, but we would also set apart time to begin testing the new dynamic of our budding relationship.

We were both inexperienced in terms of the D/s aspect that we were adding, and there was still a lot for us to both learn, separately and together. Though we had tried to give ourselves a framework for what we wanted, we couldn't truly know our limits without testing them.

We had discussed where we wanted our starting point to be. As this was role-play, we needed to map out how we wanted our first "scene" to begin.

The Internet had been a wealth of information concerning everything, from checklists to other couples sharing their knowledge about their own Daddy/little girl relationship.

I found a chatroom with some very helpful people eager to give me a more in-depth insight to these kinds of relationship.

The afternoon passed by quickly, and it wasn't long before Carlisle was calling me for dinner. I unearthed myself from where I was hiding in my room, my eyes glancing toward my studio door dispassionately. My art, for once, wasn't calling with its usual intensity, and while I could still paint, my heart wasn't fully in it.

My stomach grumbled as the smell of dinner wafted past my nostrils, and I quickened my stroll toward the kitchen. Carlisle moved around the kitchen confidently, plating my food expertly.

"Will you join me for dinner?" I requested, moving fluidly toward the wine rack and plucking a bottle of Tua Rita Redigaff 2008 red wine from it.

He paused in his movements, never turning to face me as he digested my request before nodding. "If you wish, Master Cullen."

It wasn't too often that I requested his presence with me at dinner, but we hadn't talked in awhile, and Carlisle was the kind of person that helped give things a new perspective. That wasn't to say that I was about to spill my guts on the whole BDSM thing, but I could still talk to him about Isa.

I took two glasses out and headed toward the dining room table in the room adjacent to the kitchen. My apartment held a lot of open spaces, each room sliding into the other without many barriers or definition. I had a clear view of the city from where I sat, the bright lights shining against the darkening sky.

It didn't take Carlisle long to join me, placing my plate in front of me before fetching his own. I poured the wine in each of our glasses and relaxed back into my chair.

"What are you feeding me tonight?" I asked conversationally as he sat down to my right.

"Panko crusted, pan seared turkey filet, dripping in a light brown butter gravy with mashed red potatoes and a side of sugar snap peas," he told me as though he was reciting it from a menu

I hummed in approval, raising my knife and fork to cut the turkey into bite sized pieces. We sat in silence, only the scrape of cutlery against the plates breaking the quiet. Dinner was as delicious as it always was, the turkey seared to perfection and the gravy complementing to the meal thoroughly.

"I've met someone," I said out of the blue, eyeing his reaction carefully.

After living for so many years together, I had learned to read past his schooled expressions to the ones beneath it. To most it would seem as though his expression stayed its usual stoic mask, but I wasn't fooled. The corners of his eyes tightened in surprise and his hand paused centimeters from his lips before he regained his full composure and slid it between his lips. He didn't say anything, knowing that I talked more freely without interruptions.

"Her name is Isabella, but she prefers Isa. She's different than anyone else I've ever met. She doesn't push me to be more than I am, yet she awakens parts of me that I hadn't realized were there. She makes me feel alive and needed, and I know she wants me for me. She doesn't need me for my money—she has her own—and my name and status don't faze her in the least. She's a musician with such a free spirit," I explained, my fingers drumming nervously against the table.

I wanted his approval, even as a grown man having lived, travelled and experienced the world, his opinion mattered to me. He was the closest thing I had to a father now, and I needed his support on this.

He cleared his throat, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin. Carlisle held a sense of refined ease that made his constant, professional demeanor seem effortless and lacked the usual stiffness that I had seen in other butlers. "When do I get to meet her?" he asked, his words simple yet soothing. The tension drained from my shoulders and I ducked my head, a secret smile curling up on my lips as I thought of her.

"Soon," I promised. "She's a bit younger than I am, but she's smart and absolutely breathtaking."

He quirked an eyebrow in silent question, causing me to roll my eyes. "Calm down, she's twenty-five. I'm not robbing any cradles."

His lips twitched up in amusement. "You seem quite taken with her," he commented, turning his eyes back to his plate.

I shrugged. "I don't know. We've only been out together twice, but there's an undeniable connection between us. Everything about her draws me in, and it's hard to deny the attraction."

"Then why try?"

I chuckled wryly. "Because if I didn't, I would have fucked her by now, and as enticing as that thought is, I want to get to know her first before we go that far. It'll probably be soon though, because my restraint only stretches so far, but until then, we're both content to build on other aspects of our relationship," I told him, knowing that he wouldn't mind my candidness. I was sure he didn't approve of the fact that I referred to sex as fucking, but honestly, it was too soon to be calling it anything else.

"You've grown up into a fine man, Edward. I trust your judgement. Your parents would be very proud of you."

I felt as though all the air inside me had been sucked from my body like a vacuum. I sat frozen for what felt like minutes, but could have only been seconds, unable to form a thought let alone a reply

I swallowed tightly, slowly regaining control of my faculties as my gaze turned to the view outside of the window. I blinked furiously, pushing back the wetness brimming there, as my heart throbbed dully with each beat. I cleared my throat, my breaths a little shaky as I pushed past the ache and focused my attention back on my dinner.

I didn't truly think that Carlisle expected me to say anything in response to his words, and even if I had wanted to, I couldn't. In most situations, I was able to handle the subject of my parents easier, focusing more on the people they were and the love they had shared than on their death, but Carlisle had known them intimately, having served with our family for over thirty years. For him to say that they would have been proud of the man I had become was almost the equivalent of them saying the words themselves.

I had made it made it my goal to make my parents proud since long before their deaths, and I hadn't realized just how much I needed to hear those words, the confirmation that my efforts had not been in vain. I felt as though an invisible weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and my breaths flowed through my lungs easier.

"When is that charity event that Eleazer insists that I attend?" I questioned, changing the subject.

"Wednesday evening," he answered, barely blinking at the abrupt shift in conversation.

Carlisle and I had a special relationship, one that surpassed the simple butler/master and slipped into the more intimate. In all honesty, it wasn't all that often that we sat and talked about anything other than daily pleasantries and notations, but sometimes, it was the words that didn't need to be said that meant more.

He didn't need to declare himself for me to know how he felt toward me; I could see it in his actions. The way he took care of me and stood steadfastly by my side, spoke louder than any words he could say, and it was in that way that I knew he was aware of those returned feelings. He was a friend and a confident, and the only man capable of even attempting to fill my father's shoes.

He knew me better than I knew myself and was the voice of reason that I sometimes tended to lack. I thought back Isa's words about how we never stop growing and changing, realizing the truth in them.

Maybe beneath the surface we would always hold the fundamentals of the person we were, but change was an inevitable part of life. These revelations solidified my determination to not fear or let the new changes in my life overwhelm me.

It was with those thoughts circling in my mind that I finished my dinner and retreated back to my room. I stripped down until I was nude, letting my skin breathe before climbing onto my bed. I had no intention of sleeping as I took my laptop from where I had left it on my nightstand and picked up where I had left off.

It didn't take me long to be hard and aching as I combed through step-by-step instructional spanking videos. While I may not have gotten off on pain, I couldn't deny the heat and want churning in my gut as I watched it happening. My mind was conjuring images of me and Isa in that same position, and my cock jerked, pre-cum leaking from the slit on the swollen, bulbous head.

I couldn't deny that I wanted it, her splayed over my lap with my hand coming down on her soft, pliable ass. I yearned for it, and though a part of me was wary of this need—too many years of abuse awareness having been ingrained into my mind—it didn't stop my hand from reaching down and palming my swelling cock.

I rested on my side, propped up on one elbow as I fisted my cock, languidly stroking it with one hand and surfing the site with the other.

I decided that spanking could be placed on my checklist as something that I was interested in administering, not receiving. The fact that there were so many different types ranging from erotic to stress-relieving intrigued me as I had only ever seen spanking as a punishment. I could deal with administering small amounts of pain when the need arose, but it was something I would have to familiarize myself with before I could truly know my limits on that subject.

I was glad that things such as safewords and the color system were both encouraged and regarded as essential to these types of relationships. There was no room for misunderstandings and slip-ups, and to know that Isa could voice her discomfort at any point during our playtime soothed away some more of my reservations.

At the heart of submission was the choice to submit or the option to say "No". The submissive decided just how much authority they would cede to another, how much control they would bow to, and what aspects of their life they would surrender to the dominant's command.

Submissive power exchange was all about choice. It was about the option to decide how one felt about a demand and what one would do about it. At any point that the sub was uncomfortable with the arrangement, it was within their rights to refuse and say no.

Unlike what society led us to believe, submission was not a sign of weakness. Instead, it was a voluntary surrender of power and an act worthy of respect.

Just as submission was falsely labeled, domination had fallen to the same ignorance. What I saw and read changed my whole view on it. Whilst domination—in certain situations—could be a sign of anger and suppression, in the context of the lifestyle I was embarking on, it was an act of caring and affection.

To some, bondage was a cruel affliction to be fought against. In the community, however, it could be an experience of soaring freedom and release. Acts of discipline could be punishment, a source of fear and trauma, but when it was placed as part of a "scene," it could be a framework of protocol for how we chose to play.

I hissed, my hips rocking in time with my strokes, my fist twisting as I reached the head. I swiped my thumb over the slit at the tip, gathering pre-cum and spreading down the thick, pulsing length of my cock, making my strokes smoother.

I was barely able to contain my growl of frustration when my phone rang, interrupting my "alone" time. I sighed heavily, pausing the current video I had been watching that involved a little girl bent over her Daddy's lap, bare ass in the air as he held her down and used a hairbrush to administer her punishment.

I didn't bother to check the caller ID, too impatient to get the call over with to care.

"Hello?" I called, unable to keep the impatience from my tone.

"Hey, it's Isa. Have I caught you at a bad time?"

Any previous annoyance faded with the soft lilt of her voice, and I rolled onto my back, relaxing back into the pillows.

"No, I was just...distracted," I supplied vaguely, glancing back and forth between my laptop and my hand that was still wrapped around my swollen, engorged cock.

"Oh? You sound out of breath. Can I ask what you're doing?"

If asked, I would blame the lust clouding my mind for my blunt honesty, but it was with little hesitancy that I admitted to her just exactly what I was doing.

"I'm masturbating," I told her, picking up the pace I had abandoned on my weeping cock.

She gasped in surprise at my answer, but now that my mouth had started, I couldn't seem to stop it.

"I got so hard watching videos of bad little girls getting their tight little asses spanked, that I couldn't help myself. I was imagining it was you bent over my lap and ready to take your punishment," I rasped.

"Oh, God," she whimpered, the faint sound of sheets rustling.

"You like that, don't you? You want Daddy to bend you over and spank your naughty little ass red?" I wasn't sure where the words were coming from, but I needed to hear her confirmation that this was what she wanted. I already knew that there was no turning back for me at this point. I was all in, both feet over the line and sprinting toward the finish line.

"Yes," she breathed, the husky quality of her voice causing my cock to jerk in my grip. I balanced my phone precariously between my shoulder and ear, reaching down with my free hand to palm and roll my balls.

"Are you touching yourself?" I asked, having heard the change in her breathing.

"Uh-huh," she mumbled distractedly.

I teased myself, slowing my pace down every time I got close to cumming, wanting to hold off my impending orgasm. The longer I held off, the better my orgasm would be in the end.

"It's been fucking hell for me since you told me about your fetish. I can't seem to keep my hands off my cock. I've been jacking myself raw. My fucking dick is chafing from all the abuse I'm subjecting it to," I hissed, my head falling back amongst the pillows as I slipped a finger behind my balls, pressing against the sensitive skin there.

My breathing came out in harsh pants, and I let my eyes fall closed as my hips rolled up in time with the rhythm of my hand. My mind conjured scenarios of her, fingers spreading slick folds as she stroked herself. I could imagine how engorged her clit would be, her flesh a blushing pink against the rest of her pale skin. Those pearly teeth would be firmly embedded into her bottom lip as she opened her creamy thighs further apart.

I imagined her bare, her pussy completely exposed. Her dark eyes would be swirling with lust and longing, unable to bring herself to speak the words she so desperately yearned to.

"I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is you on your knees, those big beautiful eyes begging me to do whatever I want with you. That's what you want, isn't it: to submit to me? You want me to do whatever I want, however I want, whenever I want it. I bet you're wet from just hearing me talk about it, aren't you? Tell me!" I demanded.

"Yes," she whispered as though she was sharing a secret. The fear laced in her tone was quiet but still there, and I needed her to let it go. Any hesitancy was a deterrent in what we were embarking on. I needed her to shake off any and all inhibitions and fear, and for her to just be herself. I wanted the sassy, confident woman who was opinionated and blunt to mix with the shy, insecure girl hiding away beneath the surface.

She needed the absence of control. She craved to offer her body, mind, and everything else up to me to do with as I pleased, yet there was something that held her back.

Maybe it was years of hearing and being taught that her desires were wrong, dirty even, that made her still hesitant to delve fully into her fantasies. Maybe it was the fear of rejection that still clung to the edges of her mind like a koala to a tree. Maybe she still hadn't wrapped her mind around the fact that someone—the man that she was dating no less—was willing to give her what she thought was impossible.

It was up to me to dispel any of those lingering fears and doubts that paralyzed her mind, keeping her from fully giving herself over to this. I had to turn her disbelief to acceptance, to coax the words she longed to speak from between those plump, juicy lips. Once she fully realized the freedom that lack of choice could give her, she could learn, think and act naturally, spontaneously, and find harmony and symmetry in what she desired. I just had to figure out a way to get her to bend to my will, to twist and contort herself in a way that brought her to her knees before me.

"Yes, what?" I demanded roughly, tugging furiously on my cock. For the first time in my life, I felt...powerful...majestic...invincible. My heart beat loudly in my ears, dulling the slick sounds of my hand moving over myself and my panting breaths. I could feel the blood throbbing through the veins protruding from my cock, the swollen head almost purple in color.

"Yes, Daddy," she keened lowly.

"Say it louder," I ordered, feeling my balls tighten in anticipation of my impending orgasm.

"Yes, Daddy!" she called out, her voice rising to a level slightly higher than one would use in an everyday conversation.

"Louder!" I barked through the phone. "I want your fucking neighbors to hear you, little girl. I want them to know just who you submit to, who owns that gorgeous ass of yours. I want everyone to know just how wet you are from just the sound of my voice. Fucking scream for me!"

"YES, DADDY!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, partially deafening me as she gave into it. She came, releasing all the tension she had been suppressing, small gasps and whimpers echoing through the phone.

I jerked my head back, away from the phone as heat churned in my gut, the muscles of my stomach clenching. I lost control, my hips bucking up wildly, and a slew of curses escaping me as my cock jerked, pulsing thick streams of cum onto my hand and stomach.

I lay panting, trying to recover from the intensity of my orgasm, the haze of lust surrounding my head dissipating as she started giggling breathlessly. "Oh my God! I can't believe I just did that," she crowed, undisguised awe in her voice. "That was so...liberating."

I chuckled lowly, stretching my limbs languidly. "Glad you enjoyed it."

"Are you sure you have no experience in this? Because I have never cum so hard or so quickly before."

My already flushed skin heated further, this time from embarrassment rather than arousal. "I think I would have remembered if I had. I just followed my instincts. It's probably all this porn I've been watching that's at fault," I joked, propping myself up on my elbows and raking my clean hand through my slightly sweaty hair.

She hummed in acknowledgement before sighing softly. "You know, I actually called for a reason before you sidetracked me," she commented.

"I didn't hear you complaining," I drawled lazily.

She laughed softly. "Trust me, I wasn't, but if we can get back to the topic at hand, I need your opinion on something."

"Okay," I told her, propelling myself up onto my feet and headed toward my en suite to clean up. "I'm all ears."

"Well, it's something that I've thought about getting done, but lacked the guts and motivation to do. I want to get my nipples pierced."

I paused at her revelation, the cool cloth I had been using to wipe myself clean hanging limply in my hand. I wasn't sure if she was asking for my approval, though it seemed to contradict the boundaries we had set in place.

Thinking back on some of the information I had discovered, I remembered that while some Daddies were not in control out of the playroom, it didn't necessarily mean that they couldn't offer up their guidance and support in other aspects of their little's lives when needed. I guessed that was what Isa was looking for, and I stepped up to the plate without hesitation.

"There are pros to getting them pierced," I told her. "Like increased sensitivity, but making sure you pick a sanitary parlour to get it done in shouldn't be taken lightly. Were you planning on getting rings or barbells?"

"Ummm, I think I'd prefer barbells," she said. I sauntered back into my bedroom, quickly looking up the differences between the two before agreeing with her. Little silver barbells with attached jewelry would look absolutely cock-rising through the puckered flesh of her dusty pink nipple. Not that it took much from her to get my cock standing at attention.

"Yes, barbells would look pretty through your nipples, perfect for tugging on. Would you like me to accompany you when you go? I'm not sure how I feel about someone touching your breasts without my supervision," I mused, embracing the new possessive side that had reared up. It was my job to protect her, and I was taking it very seriously without trying to come off as overbearing.

"You want to come with me?" she asked.

"If you wouldn't mind," I answered carefully, unsure as to whether she had taken offense at my offer.

"Yes, thank you. I really don't want to go by myself. It's a little daunting to be honest, and it'll be nice to have someone there to distract me and make sure no one tries to grope me inappropriately."

"There's an appropriate way to grope someone?" I teased, eliciting a short laugh from her.

"You should know, Edward, you were doing it only a few days ago," she quipped slyly.

I didn't bother to hold back my laugh at her quick comeback, wondering how she always managed to outsmart me. Somehow, her wit was quicker and more sarcastic than my own. She never balked at morbid humor, instead using it like it had been created and tailor-made just for her.

"You might have to refresh my memory," I deadpanned. "I can't reach a verdict without a thorough investigation."

"Well, when you put it like that..." she murmured, causing the sexual tension to, once again, rise. As much as I would have loved to go another round with her, I was tired and not sure whether my cock could live through any more abuse.

I groaned. "Don't tease me. My cock literally cannot take getting hard right now. I may have to put the poor bastard out of commission for a few days so it can recover from the beating I've subjected it to."

Isa giggled, finding my predicament funny. "It really isn't that humorous. I did, on the other hand, find a lot of different things that I would like to try on you," I told her.

"Really?" she questioned curiously.

"Uh-huh," I replied.

"Well then, after this Wednesday, we can get together to talk and maybe try some of these mysterious things you have learned," she suggested coyly.

"Hmm, I'd like that," I murmured.

Isa yawned on the other end of the line, signaling that maybe it was time to let her go. A quick glance at the time confirmed my suspicions, the digital numbers flashing ten to midnight.

"I should let you go catch up on your beauty sleep," I said reluctantly.

"Eh," she scoffed. "I'm pretty enough already."

"You won't be saying that at practice tomorrow," I pointed out.

"Point taken. Well, it was nice talking to you, and the other stuff was pretty fucking great too. I'll text you tomorrow at some point," she told me.

"Okay, night. Sweet dreams."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," she replied sweetly.

"What exactly are you insinuating?" I teased.

She laughed. "_Goodnight__,_ Edward."

"Night," I responded quietly as the dial tone sounded.

I sighed, hanging up and placing my phone on the nightstand before closing the lid of my laptop and stowing it away,

I flopped across the bed, half-heartedly tugging the sheets over my body as I gazed out of the window at the moon.

There was something comforting about knowing that no matter where you were, the moon would be the same. It didn't matter if someone was half a world away from you, the moon would look the same there as it did here.

I rolled over onto my stomach, hugging a pillow to my chest until I eventually fell asleep trying to remember Isa's scent with exact potency.

**AN: Leave me some love!**

Q and A time!

Q:Will this be heavy in BDSM?  
A: No, despite this chapter I will be keeping things simple and focusing on the intimacy of the relationship. There may be some light bondage and a few toys, but that's about all I'm planning for them at this time.

Q: In the future, will there be anyone against their relationship?  
A: Hell if I know. I have only about ten chapters mapped out so far, so anything could happen.

Q: I'm having trouble imagining your Isa. Is she fat?  
A:No, she is healthy woman with an hourglass figure that makes her curvy. Check out my A Pale Fire group on facebook if you want visuals of my characters.

Now, I have a question for you gals. My sister is getting married in January and I'm the maid of honor. I need bachelorette party idea...


	6. Chapter 6

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 6**

**AN: Thanks to darcysmom and thir13enth from PTB for making this readable.**

**Playlist:**  
**Heartbeat - The Fray**  
**Run For Your Life - The Fray**

"You look very handsome, Master Cullen," Carlisle informed me as he walked into my bedroom.

I peered at him through the full-length mirror I was standing in front of. He stood off to the side, his posture as straight as any military man's stance and his suit as impeccable as it had been this morning when he had brought me my breakfast. Then again, it was a rare day when Carlisle allowed his composure to dwindle to the point of looking less than perfectly refined.

I turned around to face him, tugging on the sleeves of my shirt and fiddling with my jacket.

"Not too much?" I queried.

He shook his head. "Just right, Master Cullen."

I nodded, accepting his words easily, and turned back to the mirror, eyeing my slicked-back hair with mild disdain. I hated using products on it, but it was the only way for it to have any semblance of tidiness. In rebellion, I had foregone shaving, my two-day-old stubble standing out prominently from my jaw.

In the end, I had chosen to refrain from wearing a stiff, starched tux and looking like a monkey, choosing instead to wear a dark blue fitted suit with a slightly lighter blue shirt and matching tie. It was about as comfortable and laid back as I could get for one of these events without someone bearing down on me.

I sighed, shifting uncomfortably, and scuffed my shiny leather brogues against the carpet.

"Which car will you be taking?" Carlisle asked as I moved around my bedroom. I fastened my watch around my wrist and pocketed my wallet and phone before turning my attention back to him.

"I think I'll cab it tonight. There's no point in me driving if I'm going to be drinking," I explained, adjusting my tie.

"Very good, sir." Carlisle nodded his approval and left the room to call a cab for me.

By the time I arrived at the event, I was relatively—and unsurprisingly—late. I ignored the microphones shoved in my direction from the swarming reporters as I made my way up the short red carpet. I never did interviews or answered questions; they all knew that, but it didn't stop them from trying. My image as a recluse was widely known. If I could stay out of the limelight, I did, giving them just enough to avoid speculation and unneeded attention.

I had to force myself not to squint against the harsh flashes of the cameras as I paused, letting them get their shot before ducking inside. Some of the tension working its way through my muscles lessened as I entered the ballroom, the live orchestra and low murmuring of chatter not so much soothing as familiar.

This life, with its overpriced Dom Perignon champagne and diamond chandeliers, was supposed to be where I fit, yet I felt great discomfort in it. The blatant displays of wealth only made me feel awkward, and I longed for the simplicity of my day to day life.

I stuck to the outskirts of the room, snagging a flute of champagne from a passing tray as I attempted to blend in. I was quite successful at my task until my brother, Eleazar, spotted me.

"Edward!" he hollered, garnering several looks in both our directions as he strode over, his wife, Carmen, on his arm. He didn't hesitate to pull me into a hug, patting my back exuberantly before pulling back. "I didn't think you were going to show up!" he exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

Eleazar was a spitting image of our father, with his dark, tousled hair and grey eyes, while I looked more like our mother. My dark blonde hair with hints of copper and cinnamon had been the butt of many ginger jokes, and my pale green eyes were said to be the exact same shade as my grandmother Esmeralda's.

"Carlisle managed to convince me that becoming a hermit didn't suit my lifestyle," I told him dryly, bending to kiss Carmen on the cheek in greeting. Carmen was a petite redhead and daughter of one of the partners of the company that worked with my brother. They had dated for almost three years before he popped the question, but they had never been more in love, and I found myself somewhat envious of what they had.

"At least you're letting someone take care of you," Carmen said softly, the concern in her eyes undisguised. Carmen was a naturally mothering person, and I knew she wanted more for me than the solitary existence that I lived, but I wasn't in a rush to settle down and have kids.

"I'm perfectly fine by myself," I informed her firmly, unwilling to divulge the fact that I had a girlfriend just yet. I wasn't embarrassed by Isa or anything like that, but my family members were nosy and would make it their life's mission to find out every little detail about her. I wanted to enjoy the first few months with her without having to share her.

"I know. I just hate to see you alone," she replied with a sad smile. I felt a smidgen of guilt for making her worry unnecessarily, but managed to push it aside quite easily.

"Darling, leave the poor man alone," Eleazer admonished lightly, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist. She leaned back into him, her body automatically gravitating toward him as she peeked up at him, the love they shared reflected clearly in their eyes. I had to look away as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, the moment so intimate that I almost felt like I was intruding.

I focused my attention on the flute in my hand, trying to ignore the way their little display made my chest constrict tightly.

"I thought you two were in the Hamptons this week anyway?" I said, abruptly changing the subject and drawing them out of their moment.

"There was a change of plans," Eleazar said vaguely, and I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

"A change of plans," I repeated slowly. "A change of plans as in, there was never any to begin with, but you wanted to trick me into coming tonight?"

He had the decency to look sheepish. "It's good for you to get out and socialize," he argued.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, wondering why everyone insisted that how I spent my time was their business. "Can you excuse for a moment?" I murmured.

"Edward..." Eleazar started. I didn't give him a chance to continue speaking, let alone protest, before I was pushing my way through clusters of bodies, mumbling quick apologies as I went. It wasn't as though I intended to leave; I just needed to escape the crowd. It was too hot, almost suffocating, and a bit of fresh air and a quick smoke would calm my nerves.

"Edward, there's someone that I want to introduce you to," Brianna Tanner, the head coordinator of the event cooed, grasping my arm and steering me in the opposite direction of the exit.

I argued feebly, but my words fell on deaf ears as she pulled me toward an older couple.

"This is Ben and Angela Cheney. They are looking for some art to decorate their new place, and I knew you were just the man to ask!" she exclaimed, looking altogether too happy with herself.

I inhaled a deep breath, fighting back the need to fidget as I greeted them both calmly. "Hello, I'm Edward Cullen. Bree tells me that you're looking for art?"

"Oh, Bree was just telling us that you know a lot about art. She said that you own some galleries in the area?" Angela questioned.

"Partially, yes," I answered.

I had invested some of my money into The Forge Galleries that were dotted around the world, sitting back as a silent partner. Waylon Forge had approached me, green and unused to the harshness of the business world, hailing from some small town that had some ridiculous name.

Waylon had mainly needed the publicity that my name would bring attached to his Galleries, and with his degrees in business and art history combined with my love and passion for art, we had clicked, both of us were determined to make something great.

In all honesty, I had little to do with the actual goings on of the gallery anymore, only showing up at openings and making sure that my investments were put to good use. Every so often Waylon would ask my opinion on a particular piece he wanted up, but I mainly left everything up to him.

"I can give you Waylon Forge's card. There's no one in the city that knows art better than him," I said smoothly. I took out my wallet, handing over the card with a charming smile. They thanked me profusely before excusing themselves to continue mingling.

"Isn't the music just beautiful?" Bree gushed, laying her hand on my arm. "They're a local orchestra."

I moved away from her touch, humming in acknowledgement and sparing a glance at the orchestra, only to do a double take when plump, pouty pale pink painted lips and glossy dark hair caught my attention.

I stood frozen, a part of me unable to get a firm grasp on the fact that Isa was here, at the gala, where I was present. It almost seemed obvious that the charity event that she was playing at would be the same one that I was attending, yet it was only now that I had pieced it all together

I was entranced by her, the world around me fading as my gaze honed in on her. She was in her element, the cello nestled between her slender legs as an extension of her body instead of a separate entity. Her lips were pursed, jutting out in a pout, and her sculpted eyebrows were drawn together in concentration as her bow stroked over the strings, coaxing out notes.

She caressed the strings, her delicate fingers dancing over them as she arched her long, pale neck, the fingerboard sloping over her shoulder. She enticed sounds from the belly of the cello, the notes running smoothly together, dipping up and down like waves in the ocean.

She was glorious to behold, so free as the pent-up emotions escaped through the tips of her fingers, the rough arch of her forearm as she moved the bow, hypnotizing. It was art in one of its rawest forms, and when the piece finally came to an end it was all that I could do to stop myself from clapping.

I almost protested when I saw them put their instruments down, obviously going to take a break from tirelessly playing for the last two hours. How I hadn't stopped and listened to them earlier baffled me, but I would be sure to make up for lost time when they began to play again.

I was barely aware of my feet moving, once again pulled by a force greater than either of us, as I walked toward her.

I had to suck in a harsh breath as she stood up, her black dress molded to her every curve in a way that left me wondering just how she had managed to pour herself into it.

It was sleeveless with a high neckline and pulled in at her slim waist, accentuating how small it was. I held back a groan as she twisted around to reveal that it was backless, the material scooping down. The expanse of her pale back was on display, the material of her dress only reappearing at the small of her back.

A line of notes curved down on either side of her lower back in the shape of a cello's _f_holes. The stark color against the ivory of her skin was enough to cause a shudder of arousal to race down my spine. Her whole ensemble was a contradiction of demure, yet brazen. The rebelliousness of flaunting her tattoo seeming so subtle, yet no less bold.

Her legs seemed to go on for miles in her tall black pumps, and I was practically salivating by the time she stepped down, her cheeks flushed and a wide grin on her face as she conversed with one of the violinists.

Her hair was pinned up neatly, sweeping over one eye before curling and twisting into an elaborate bun to the side of her head. She looked like she had stepped out of 1940's movie, and I couldn't keep my eyes off the sway of her rounded hips as she sauntered toward the balcony.

I felt as though I was experiencing deja vu as I followed her, as captivated by her as I had been the first time I had laid eyes on her.

The view of the city was spectacular from the balcony as I stepped out into the cool night, my eyes scanning for Isa. The wind whipped around me as I walked to the edge, glancing down at the street below.

It was only when the scent of vanilla and cherries filtered through my senses that I realized that she was behind me. I felt two arms snake beneath my suit jacket, the heat of her touch scorching as her nails scraped lightly against the contracting muscles of my stomach.

My eyelids fluttered as she pressed herself flush to my back, her breath warm as it hovered by my ear. "Fancy meeting you here," she murmured.

I twisted around in her grip, allowing her to push me backward until I hit the railing of the balcony. I braced myself against it, unable to stop my gaze from dropping to her plump lips that seemed to be begging me to nip and suck on them.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood," I replied, dipping my head down as one of my hands slipped down her side and curled around her fleshy hip.

She hummed, leaning further into me. "I missed you," she confessed, winding a hand around my neck. She tugged on it, drawing my face further down until it was level with hers as she reached up on the tips of her toes. I was filled with contentment as she tilted her head, brushing the side of her nose against mine as I breathed her in deeply. I wrapped my arms around her waist, rocking back and forth in a soothing rhythm as I nuzzled her hair.

"You know, when you mentioned that you were playing for a charity event this week, you never mentioned that it would be this one," I mused.

The fucking dimples came out to play, teasing me as they always did as she grinned cheekily up at me. "Well, a woman has to keep some secrets. How else am I supposed to keep you on your toes?"

I laughed softly. "Of course, how could I have thought otherwise? It was breathtaking to watch you play though."

"I almost thought you weren't going to show up at one point," she admitted, pulling back slightly to gaze into my eyes. I lifted a hand, stroking my thumb along her cheek, her ivory skin satin smooth.

"My brother insisted that I show my face tonight. He doesn't support my decision to become a hermit," I deadpanned, my grin growing as she giggled.

"Yet he didn't manage to convince you to shave," she pointed out, and I self-consciously rubbed the two-day scruff covering my jaw.

"Well, I had to stand behind my beliefs. Plus, it makes me look rugged, don't you think?" I joked.

She pursed her lips to keep from laughing outright, but I did detect a dark glint of lust in her eyes. "Very," she said, attempting to school her expression into a serious one. She squealed, gripping my shoulders as I whirled her around, switching positions with her so that she was leaning back against the railing, one of my knees pressed between her legs.

"By the way," I murmured, trailing a hand up her thigh. "I missed you, too."

She shivered as I brushed my nose along the column of her neck, hitching her thigh over my hip. I curled my other hand around her body, dipping her backward slightly as I placed open-mouthed kisses along her jaw line.

She sighed breathlessly as my mouth traveled upward until I reached her lips. I took my time, slowly kissing her top lip, then her bottom lip before covering her mouth completely with my own. She hummed, scratching her blunt nails against my scalp as she returned the kiss, the soft caress of her lips a balm to my soul. I doubted that I would ever get tired of kissing Isa, if that was even a possibility. Her mouth was so wet and warm as I delved my tongue between her parted lips, stroking it against hers.

The skirt of her dress had ridden up her thigh, and I didn't hesitate to slip my hand beneath, groaning at the feel of her skin against my own. Tthinking about how soft she felt made me rub my cock against her hip. I wanted her splayed naked in my bed, those gorgeous limbs wrapped around my body as I licked and sucked every inch of her. I could only imagine how she would feel sheathed around my cock, her muscles contracting and tightening as she screamed my name.

Unfortunately, a voice broke through the haze of lust before I fully lost myself in the fantasy of fucking her. "Izzy, we're back on in five."

I stiffened, panting heavily as I tore my mouth away from hers, clenching my jaw and letting my eyes fall shut as I forced myself to take a step back. My skin was overheated and I knew if I turned around, the erection straining against the front of my pants would be obvious. I sucked in lungfuls of cool air in an attempt to calm down, my fists flexing as they curled and uncurled.

"Oh, of course. Thanks, Jane," Isa murmured, trying to regain her composure.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder to see the violinist Isa had been conversing with earlier standing a little way away. She was petite with pale blonde hair and ice blue eyes. She smirked at me in a predatory way, her eyes glinting mischievously in a way that told me that she had enjoyed cock blocking me immensely.

She turned and disappeared inside, and I sighed, raking a hand through my hair only to come out with a handful of pomade. I grimaced, smoothing my hair back down into place, and pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket, cleaning my fingers on it.

Isa shot me an apologetic look, her cheeks flushed and her lips darkened and swollen. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

I closed the gap between us, cupping her neck in one hand and pulling her mouth back to mine for a brief, but passionate kiss.

"Don't be," I murmured, revealing for a moment in feeling the soft pillowed flesh of her lips beneath mine.

"I'll see you Friday?" she asked, reminding me of the date we had planned as she continued straightening out her appearance.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I answered with a grin. Something passed between us as our eyes locked on to each other. The silent understanding that it would be our third date—excluding the day we met—and thereby, enough dates for sex to be officially on the table, or at least something a little more than the making out and fondling we had done so far.

She seemed as reluctant to leave as I was to let her go, but she managed to tear herself away. My fingers mourned the loss of her skin as she slipped from my grasp, the ghost of her flesh still tingling against my palm as she stepped toward the balcony door.

She glanced over her shoulder a few times as she walked away, causing her to almost bump into a few people, and I met her gaze each time she looked until she disappeared into the crowd. As much as I hated to see her go, I couldn't deny that I hadn't enjoyed watching her leave. The way the dress's material framed her round, curvaceous ass was enough to make me want to forgo the rest of the evening to take care of my not so little problem.

One thing had become clear to me during the course of the evening, and that was that I would have to be a fool to let a woman like Isa slip through my fingers. She was confident and sassy, fierce and strong, but the thing that drew me to her the most was that she made me into a better, stronger man.

I had always been one to slink into the background, blending into the crowd in an effort to be invisible, but Isa drew me out of the shadows, slowly coaxing me to be a man who was certain of his own value.

To possess a woman like her—someone I admired and strived to be better for—was worth every minute I had spent alone. To know that I wasn't settling for some brainless socialite, but instead possessing a heroine—the strongest and the highest type of woman I could find—filled me with a sense of achievement.

There was a certain spring in my step as I snagged another flute of champagne off a passing tray, and I couldn't contain the somewhat smug grin on my face.

"Who is she?" Carmen asked, undisguised curiosity in her tone as she sidled up to where I had settled, hidden in the corner as the orchestra set up to play once again.

"Hmm?" I mumbled distractedly, barely sparing her a glance. My eyes were transfixed on Isa, the way she moved spectacular as they once again began playing, each change synchronized with the rest of the orchestra.

"The woman you disappeared off with earlier and can't seem to take your eyes off now," she clarified.

I felt my neck flush with heat and I rubbed the back of my neck as I cleared my throat, trying to figure a way to deflect the situation. I hadn't realized that my disappearance with Isa had been so noticeable or—more likely—that I had simply not cared, which was a first for me. I was usually very conscientious when I was public, especially when there was a woman involved, but Isa had a way of scrambling my mind in the very best and I had forgotten completely about the speculation we might have garnered.

I suddenly felt awkward, my eyes darted down toward the floor as I momentarily chewed on my lip before sighing, knowing that lying was futile. Maybe if it was someone else, someone who I wasn't close to, I could have bluffed my way out of it, but Carmen was my sister-in-law, and over the years we had formed a bond.

"She's...uh...her name is Isa," I revealed. "Short for Isabella."

Carmen hummed in acknowledgement. "And?" she pressed after a few moments of silence.

I swallowed tightly, shrugging in what I hoped was nonchalance before glancing up into her hazel eyes. "She's important," I admitted softly. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized the severity and truth of my statement. Somehow, Isa had slipped passed the walls surrounding my heart without my notice, and though it seemed too much too soon, I knew that there was no turning back.

I wasn't sure what I expected Carmen's reaction to be, and though she tried to tamper down her excitement, the blinding smile on her face was radiant. She clasped her hands together, tears of joy springing up in her eyes.

"Oh, Edward," she choked out.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat, glancing away from her as I tried to rein in my own emotions.

I felt guilty for wanting to keep this from her, my need for solitude having seeped into every corner of my life to the point that my natural reaction had been to alienate myself to prevent its disturbance.

"She intrigues me, and I want to get to know her. It's been a long time since I've wanted to get to know a woman, and Isa's different," I murmured.

"I'm just glad that you're opening yourself up to the possibility of dating. It's been what, two years?" Carmen guessed.

"Three," I corrected, suddenly finding the contents of my glass riveting. Whilst I, personally, had found little wrong with my sabbatical from dating, I knew others considered it strange. It wasn't something that I enjoyed talking about, and whilst Isa and I had talked about past relationships, I had been purposefully vague on the length of time it had been since I had slept with a woman.

I had simply told her that it had been a while, and that I was clean. I knew that at some point I would tell her, but I wanted her to know me fully so as to understand that there had been no ulterior motives other than wariness on my part that had fueled my desire to distance myself from the opposite sex.

My decision—as far as I was concerned—had been pragmatic, and it wasn't one that I regretted, even now. I understood the fact that I was getting older, and thus was it was natural for me to start thinking of settling down, but it wasn't something that I was in a rush for.

I had never been an overly social person, content with being on my own, living my life the way I chose without the responsibility of answering to anyone else. My mother used to tell me that it was in the stillness and quiet that I found my peace, but it was something I was starting to want to change. I knew that it would take time before I was fully comfortable standing outside of my shell, but I was willing to try to be better, to be more.

"I presume that you're planning on hiding her away from the family for the time being," Carmen commented, drawing me out of my thoughts.

A smile quirked at the corners of my lips, and I chuckled through my nose, exhaling heavily in amusement. While my parents may have been dead, it did not stop my grandparents—from either sides—from being a very close part of our family.

"Things are still new between me and Isa. Maybe when we're both more comfortable, I'll think about it, but until then, you better not breathe a word of this to them," I told her sternly.

I didn't expect Carmen not to tell Eleazar since they kept no secrets from each other, but telling the rest of the family was not something that I wanted to do.

She let out a small huff as she rolled her eyes. "Give me some credit, Edward. I know you well enough that if I did, you would just barricade yourself in your apartment and refuse to speak a word to any of us until we gave up."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," I said, because while I may have liked my privacy, I wouldn't go as far as to cut my family off completely for their nosiness. They knew certain topics were off limits until I was ready to talk about them, and they wouldn't get a peep out of me until I was ready to talk. Carlisle was the only exception because I valued his opinion above all others and knew that he wouldn't discuss it with others.

"Maybe to you it might seem that way, but do I need to remind you of the 2010 debacle."

"That was once," I argued. "And it seemed to be the only way to get you guys off my back."

"Still, don't wait too long. You know what will happen if they hear it from someone else," Carmen said pointedly.

"No one guilt trips like Nanna Es," I said wryly.

Carmen laughed, having firsthand experience in Nanna Es's legendary guilt trips. The old bird could wheedle just about anything out of anyone with a few well-placed words.

"I'm happy for you, though, Edward. I hope you know that," Carmen told me earnestly. "Eleazar and I were really starting to worry that you'd turn into one of those old, cynical men that were perpetually alone. Emmett thought that you were suppressing your homosexuality, but no one listens to him."

I laughed wryly, shaking my head slowly. "I never understood why it was so hard for you guys to understand that I was happy on my own," I admitted with amusement.

"Were you really happy?" Carmen asked, her tone curious rather than invasive.

I thought over her words for a few moments before sighing. "Yes, to the extent that I was much more content and at peace with myself without a woman constantly begging for my attention. Committing myself to a relationship was not my top priority back then, and I used the time away from dating to do some soul searching. I've accomplished a lot in the last three years that I wouldn't have been unable to if I was tied down, and I enjoyed every second of it. If you're looking for some kind of regret, then you won't find any. I'm glad, relieved even, that I spent time away from it all. It makes what I have with Isa that much more special," I confided.

Carmen nodded slowly, digesting my words. "You know, I think that's the most personal thing you've ever revealed about yourself to me."

I shrugged, unsurprised by that information. "There's no point when I have Eleazar to share every little embarrassing moment of my adolescence with you," I joked.

"That's true. I still can't believe you did ballet as a kid. Just imagining you in a tutu has me in stitches."

I rolled my eyes, used to that kind of reaction. "I didn't wear a tutu, just tights and a shirt," I corrected her.

"Still, I have the imagery. I wonder how your girlfriend would take that little tidbit of information," she teased.

"It astounds me that out of the two of us, you're older than I am," I said dryly.

"You have an old soul. It makes you older than your years. Plus, we both know that I don't look a day over thirty, so why act like I am?"

"Women cannot be reasoned with, can they? They always have to get the last word in every argument and conversation."

"Oh, don't be a sore loser, Edward, it's unbecoming," Carmen cooed, reaching out to pinch my cheek. I cringed away from her touch, swatting her hand away exasperatedly.

"What does my brother see in you again?" I asked, a slight hint of annoyance seeping into my tone.

"You mean, apart from my sparking personality and dashing good looks?" she asked with a grin. "Well, there's this thing I can do with my tongue where I-"

I slammed my hand over her mouth, wondering just how much she'd had to drink tonight. She wasn't usually this chatty and free with her words. Intact, she'd done a one-eighty from how she was when we first started talking, the alcohol finally sinking in.

She was very giggly as I removed my hand and escorted her quickly back to her husband.

"Lee, you might want to take her home before she passes out," I told him discreetly as Carmen teetered back and forth.

His expression was pained as he regarded her before sighing. "I'm sorry, Ed. You know how she gets after a few too many," he said apologetically.

I waved him off, requiring no explanation. Usually it was Carmen that was in charge of dragging Eleazar's drunken ass home at the end of the night, not the other way around.

Once Carmen was placed securely in Eleazar's more-than-capable arms, I took it as my cue to retreat, casting one last longing glance toward Isa before heading for the exit. My hands were already clawing at my tie, loosening it as I ducked out of the side entrance, avoiding any lingering photogs as I hailed a cab.

It was with relief that I entered my apartment, happy to be away from the hustle and bustle. I stripped off my clothes as I walked toward my studio, leaving them where they fell until I was only left with my pants.

The room was still, the lighting low, casting shadows across the room. I closed the door behind myself, turning the lights up, bathing the room in a yellow glow.

I moved toward the blank canvas set up, feeling the primed cotton beneath the tips of my fingers as I trailed them over the edge of it.

Inspiration kindled in the pit of my stomach, lurching and churning as I pulled my paint-splattered stool across the room until it sat in front of the canvas. I worked methodically, arranging everything in place before I settled down in front of it.

A shiver shot down my spine at the sound of my dip pen scratching against the coarse surface of the canvas, and I allowed the world around me to dissipate into nothingness. Anything beyond myself and my work no longer existed, my mind disconnected from reality. I found peace in the darkness that swirled around me, surrounding me in its warmth. The silence full, instead of empty as it blanketed the room, only the intermittent clink of the metal nib hitting the side of inkwell breaking it.

My hand moved furiously over the canvas, and I shifted impatiently, ignoring the black smudges on my fingers. The blank, stark white of the canvas before me slowly transformed, the dark lines creating wide, exotic eyes and soft, pouted lips that seemed to continually haunt me. The memory of her flowed seamlessly from my mind, branching out through my spine, down my arms, searing through the tips of my fingers with an unforgettable image.

I rolled my bottom lip further into my mouth, my teeth nibbling on it in an effort to ground and control me.

The things that could emerge from sketches were amazing. The spiraling, dancing movements of my hand, and the swift rotation of my wrist never seemed to stop as everything from the subtlest of touches to the most bold lines emerged, creating the base of a picture.

Hours dripped by like hot wax sliding down the body of a candle, insignificant in its action, yet no less apparent. My thoughts and my feelings were spilled out before me, twisting and combining with the arch of her neck, and the depth of her eyes.

Sitting back and looking at the finished product caused me to draw in a harsh breath. I drawn her in her innocence, large, pleading eyes staring from under heavy lids and long, curled lashes. Teeth sunk into pillowed flesh and hand clasped in a silent plea for something beyond herself. This was her, the her that I had yet to see and could only imagine, but if I had my way, by the end of the week, I would need to imagine no more.

**AN: Leave me some love!**

Q and A time!

Q: Will all the sex in this fic be kinky or will there be some vanilla sex?  
A: Very good question. No, it won't all be kinky. They are still dating normally, so there will be passionate vanilla sex. The kinky sex will be at different times and more structured.

Q: Does Edward know that Isa is playing at the Gala?  
A: This chapter pretty much answered that question.

Q: Will we get to read Isa's nipple piercing experience?  
A: Not sure yet, but I'm leaning toward a yes.

Q: Why is the age difference such a big deal?  
A: I've gotten this question a few times and simple answer is that, to Edward and Isa, it doesn't, but...when you're a multimillionaire who has the press nosing their way into your life, things get blown out of proportion. Their life is very different from ours. Try and remember that.

Q: How do you pronounce Isa's name?  
A: Her name is sort of pronounced like Isabella without the bella, but with the I sounded like E as in Enoch


	7. Chapter 7

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 7**

**AN: Thanks to Storypainting and darcysmom from PTB for looking for this for me. Thanks also for all of you who review and read this, I love your questions so keep them coming. We get to meet someone new this chapter. **

**Playlist:**

**Portishead - GloryBox**

Nervous tension tumbled around in my stomach as my mind nitpicked on every little detail of what was going to happen tonight, or at least what I hoped would happen.

While Isa and I had never actually spoken about it, the silent implications of our third date hung heavily over my head. I felt like I had regressed into a teenaged boy, sex was the only thing on my mind as I prepared for our date.

Keeping in tune with our intimate and casual approach to dates, Isa had offered to cook for us at her place and then maybe watch a movie. I had agreed without hesitation, happy not to have the distractions of a restaurant so that I could focus solely on her.

I packed an overnight bag, not wanting to be presumptuous, but not wanting to go unprepared either. I forced myself not to worry about how my long dry spell would translate when things progressed, and instead focused on getting to her place on time, which was a feat I surprisingly accomplished.

There was a woman exiting as I jogged up the steps of Isa's apartment building, and I caught the door, slipping inside without having to be buzzed in.

I was feeling confident and much more relaxed as I rode up in the elevator, but that might had more to do with the cigarette I had smoked all the way down to the filter before getting there. I knocked on her apartment door, flowers in one hand, bag slung over my shoulder, and a lazy grin on my face.

I leaned against the door frame, casually crossing my ankles as the nerves dissipated and were replaced with anticipation. Knowing that in mere seconds I could be touching, kissing, and feeling Isa had me twitching in my pants.

That is until the door opened to reveal a bare chested tanned guy scrubbing at his dark curls with a towel. I pushed off the doorframe, glancing at the apartment number to make sure that I was in the right place. Once it was confirmed that I was in fact at the right place, I looked him over, my emotions warring with each other as my mind raced to come up with a plausible reason for his presence in my girlfriend's apartment.

I didn't let myself jump to conclusions, knowing that it would only lead to distrust and unnecessary drama.

"You must be the boyfriend," he stated, recognition flaring in his eyes—which I now noticed were similar to Isa's. A wolfish grin appeared on his face. His teeth were so white that I was sure I would go blind if I stared too long. He had a few centimeters on me in the height department and thick ropes of muscles and wide shoulders. He looked young, younger than Isa, and I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"That would be me," I confirmed. "Is Isa here?"

He seemed almost startled by my question, backing out of the doorway, one hand on the door. "Right, sorry. Come in," he said, beckoning me forward before turning his body away. "ISA, YOUR BOYFRIEND IS HERE!" he yelled.

She answered with a curse before stumbling out of her room, cheeks flushed and a scowl on her face, though her gaze was trained on the guy rather than me.

"Jake, I thought I already kicked you out. Put a shirt on, for fuck's sake, and go," she huffed exasperatedly.

"Nice way to treat your brother," he grumbled, moving to tug on his shirt that was thrown over the back of the couch next to where Minion was lying, eyeing me warily.

"Half-brother, and don't forget to take your jeans out of the freezer before you leave otherwise I'm burning them," she told him sternly.

He rolled his eyes and waved her away, strolling toward the kitchen as Isa turned her attention to me. "Sorry, baby, my asstard of a brother decided to drop by last minute to say hi, while he's scoping out Columbia for graduate school," she explained as she sauntered over to me, those full round hips swaying with each step. I took notice, for the first time since I'd seen her, of what she was wearing. A short, forest green dress that fell mid-thigh and draped over her curves with elbow length sleeves, and a thick, black belt around her narrow waist cinching it in.

My eyes continued their descent down her body, taking in pale, long, shapely legs that ended with tall, black pumps. It still baffled me that no matter what she wore, my body had the same reaction. I was certain she could wear a sack, and I would still be salivating over her like a hungry dog with a steak bone.

"You done yet?" Isa asked, amusement coloring her tone. I gave her a sheepish grin, loving how her glossy waves of hair bounced with each step as she walked closer. Her makeup was minimal—a little bit of lip gloss and smoky gray color around her eyes—and I thought she knew I liked it that way.

"I can't help it," I murmured, pulling her toward me once she was within arm's reach. "You're just so gorgeous."

I could feel the heat of her blush at my compliment as I cupped her neck, guiding her face toward mine for a proper greeting. She sighed against my lips, her body instinctively falling into me as she molded herself against my body. Her fingers reached up, stroking my shoulders and neck lightly as she tilted her head, slanting her lips over mine. She was soft and warm in my arms, her sweet scent infiltrating my senses as I tasted her succulent lips, so full and lush as they moved against my own. My taste buds exploded with her taste as I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, paying close attention to it as she nipped at my top lip.

A low groan rumbled through my chest as her nails bit into the back of my neck, and her tongue grazed over my lips, seeking entrance. The air crackled around us as our tongues mingled, slipping and sliding against each other in greeting.

"Could you at least wait till I've left?" Jake complained, effectively ruining the moment. Isa pulled back, clenching her eyes shut and gritting her teeth together.

"Jake," she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. It was a warning, and I could see that he knew that he was five seconds away from having a very irate woman on his back. He held up his hands in surrender and stepped backward toward the door.

"Okay, I'm gone," he conceded, backing out of the door. "See you on Sunday," he called out just before the door closed. Isa looked about five seconds away from hunting him down and beating the crap out of him, so I tugged on one of her curls, turning her attention back to me.

"Hey, I missed you," I told her with a grin, holding out the bouquet of sunflowers I had bought for her. My words and gift had their desired effect and she visibly relaxed, her expression softening as she pouted her swollen lips.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry about my brother," she apologized, taking the flowers from my hands.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Don't be. I grew up with two brothers. I know how they can be."

She smiled and reached up to kiss me again but chastely this time. I bent down to meet her lips, causing my bag to slide from my shoulder down my arm.

"Someone came prepared," she murmured against my mouth as I dumped it by the door.

"Better safe than sorry," I replied, bumping my nose against hers as I hooked my fingers in her belt, trying to draw her closer. She giggled, backing up only to have me follow her, unwilling to separate our lips.

"Edward, if you don't let me go, dinner will burn," she warned, pushing against my chest. I reluctantly retreated after giving her one last kiss, the feeling of her plush lips addicting.

"Hmmm, it smells delicious, what did you make?" I asked curiously.

I followed her into the kitchen. My eyes drifted down to her ass, the supple cheeks framed by the dress as it shifted enticingly with each step.

"Nothing fancy. Just Magret de Canard with linguine pesto," she said nonchalantly as though it was Kraft mac and cheese. She filled a tall crystal vase with water and unwrapped the flowers before placing them in the vase. Her fingers danced over the petals, arranging the stems in a fashion that was foreign to me before placing the vase on the breakfast bar.

She moved around the kitchen with the confidence of a woman that was in charge, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She was comfortable and in her element here, and the Ward Cleaver in me approved wholeheartedly.

I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched her. "Need any help?" I questioned, feeling a little useless just standing around.

"Do you know how to use a knife?" she teased, waving one in my direction.

"I think I can handle it," I answered, pushing off the counter and strolling over to her.

"Well, then you can cut the fetta cheese into little squares for the salad," she instructed. I trailed my fingers over her delicate wrist on my way up to extract the knife from her hand, a jolt of electricity sparking as my fingers grazed against hers.

"Yes, ma'am," I murmured, slipping the knife from her grip as my eyes smoldered. I stepped back, knowing it was neither the time or the place to lose any amount of control, but I was sure that our proximity had shown her just where my mind had been. It was impossible for her to have been able to ignore the hardness of my semi digging into her side.

I saw a new side of Isa as I cut up the fetta cheese, the low hum of jazz music filtering through the room.

She moved gracefully with quick precision, keeping track of everything at once as she flitted back and forth across the kitchen. She never faltered, seamlessly giving me tasks that made me feel as though I was contributed, but were still within my range of culinary abilities.

I chopped the toasted almonds, sliced the salad greens, and grated the lemon rind on top before adding the dried cranberries to a bowl. I mixed yellow mustard, balsamic vinegar, olive oil together to create a dressing for the salad before drizzling it on.

"You're spoiling me, you know," I commented as we brought the food out to the table on the small balcony. It was off the living room through a pair of French windows. It was cosy with flowers and fairy lights on the railings. There wasn't much room for anything more than the table and some chairs, but it was cosy all the same.

She laughed softly as we helped ourselves to a bottle of Tasmanian pinot noir, and I held her chair out for her as she settled elegantly on the chair across from my own.

"Please, this took less than an hour to make. It's an old italian recipe my Nonna passed down through my father," she explained, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ears.

I moved to settle in my own seat, my mouth watering as I focused on the sight in front of me—and for once I wasn't talking about Isa. Pink, crispy slices of duck breast and linguine covered in a creamy pesto sauce with a side of italian salad and fresh bread.

Her own plate was less full than my own, but still held a healthy portion of meat, pasta and salad. I thanked God that I was with a woman that wouldn't just pick at a salad then claim she was full. There was nothing more awkward than being the only person eating, especially with the amount I usually ate. I had never been afraid to go for seconds—and even thirds on some occasions—but that generally led to some contention between me and my date.

I groaned at the first taste of the duck as it practically melted in my mouth. It was rare and tender, and pretty fucking perfect, but combined with the rest it was practically sinful.

She laughed, blushing softly at my reaction as her eyes sparkled with humor. "I'm glad you like it."

"Baby, this is indescribably delicious. I don't just like it, I love it so much that I'm afraid of impregnating it," I corrected.

She threw her head back, tossing her hair as her dimples made an appearance. She laughed a full, belly laugh, the sound so free and light that I couldn't help but join in.

"You really have a strange way with words," she said as she calmed down, a few errant giggles still slipping through. The way she laughed with her eyes, making them dance and sparkle was something that tugged at my chest as I grinned at her. I couldn't remember a time before Isa entered my life where I smiled and laughed so much, yet she brought it out of me.

"I'm an artist, not a writer, and I honestly thought that it was a very apt description," I told her.

She snorted around the rim of her wine glass, her eyelashes curling up as she peeked at me from beneath them. "With a very disturbing mental imagery," she added, leaning forwards on her elbows as she took a sip of wine.

"The mechanics would be difficult," I conceded, amusement coloring my tone as the corners of my lips twitched.

"Would you like me to leave you alone with it for a while? I can eat in the kitchen while you seduce your meat," she suggested with a teasing grin.

I chuckled, unable to hold it in any longer, and shook my head. "I'd rather be here, seducing you," I answered honestly.

She ducked her head down slightly, digging her teeth into the corner of her plump bottom lip as she tried to tamper down her smile.

"That's good to know," she murmured, her voice dropping to a husky timbre.

Her heeled foot moved to rub against mine in silent affirmation of what was to come later, and I reciprocated, hooking mine around hers. I had never quite understood why playing footsie was considered sexual in any manner, but feeling the leather of her shoe moving seductively against my ankle felt like a tease and a promise. My cock twitched, swelling as it responded to her unspoken promise, and I suppressed a shudder.

It was strange how we could go from one to eighty within seconds, yet that was just how it was between us. The sexual tension was always simmering beneath the surface, waiting for its cue to rear its head, even when we were talking and teasing one another.

The need to be closer to her clawed at my insides, and I reached out for her hand, threaded our fingers together and stroking my thumb over the back of her hand. My actions didn't banish the need, but they tampered it down to a tolerable level.

She must have felt the same because she sighed in relief, making no move to take her hand back as she ate with her other. We spent the rest of the meal catching up on what each of us had been doing during the week, and sharing humorous anecdotes.

For dessert we shared a large slice of homemade chocolate lava cake. Watching  
Isa sink a knife into it, causing the rich dark chocolate to ooze out of it in all its decadent glory had my mouth watering.

There was no doubt in my mind that Isa was going to spoil and make me fat if she kept on cooking like this. I had never had a woman cook for me. Carlisle cooked for me pretty much every day, but a woman? Not since my mother.

You know," I commented "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to make me look bad cooking all this delicious food."

She laughed softly, pausing to give me a cheeky grin, mischief dancing in her eyes as the indents of her dimples became more prominent. "I don't need to know how to cook to make you look bad," she quipped with a sly wink, sliding her cake laden fork into her mouth. Her lips pursed around the fork as she moaned softly in pleasure, the sound going straight to my cock.

"Ouch, straight through the heart, Isa. Straight through the heart," I said in mock hurt, to which she answered with a laugh.

"You're a big boy, you'll get over it," she quipped back sassily.

I refrained from turning her words into a sexual innuendo, barely, and just chuckled.

The natural light was lower as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and the music switched track to some Jazz vocals. Soft, seductive voices filtered in the room, accompanied by a repertoire of instruments, creating a sensual ambiance.

I took a forkful of cake, the taste of sweet, rich chocolate exploding against my taste buds.

"Fuck, you're a culinary genius," I mumbled with my mouth full.

"Well, I'm not going to refute that," she stated, her eyes dancing with mirth. I chuckled lightly, enjoying this playful, mischievous side of her.

We fought over our slice of cake, intentionally sabotaging each other's attempts to scoop some onto our forks in a bid to see who could consume the most.

Sure, it seemed childish and we could have had another piece, or even just eaten separate slices, but it was so much more fun this way.

"This is nice," she murmured, once we'd finished the delicious slice chocolate lava cake.

I quirked an eyebrow in question, the wistful expression on her face making me curious.

"What is?" I questioned, dragging a finger along the plate to gather the leftover chocolate before popping it into my mouth.

"This...us," she revealed, her soft and slightly apprehensive. "I didn't think I'd find a guy that could want me for who I am, and not just the pretty parts."

"There are ugly parts?" I asked, trying to keep things light.

She rested her neck against the hand propped up by her elbow, tilting her head to the side as she regarded me closely. "You know what I mean," she said pointedly.

I leaned back into my chair, crossing my arms across my chest, and returned her stare evenly. "Isa, wanting to be dominated isn't something to be embarrassed about. In fact, it's natural. There's a natural submissiveness about you, and you should be no more ashamed of that than I should about how I react to it. There's something inside of me that has always clawed to get out, and I've suppressed it to the point that I found myself bored and exasperated with women.

"But you, you made me realize that the way I react isn't bad or wrong. Being a dominant man isn't the same as being a controlling one, and you made me understand that. I need and want your consent to do...unspeakable things that I have never dared even contemplate before. To be honest, a part of me is still wary and scared about all this. It's understandably overwhelming, but I want it, and I know you want it just as much, so I know we can figure this out together."

I squeezed her hand reassuringly, feeling better, lighter maybe, after telling her how I felt. She released a long breath, looking remorseful.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I'm probably giving you whiplash with this back and forth thing I'm doing, but I'm struggling with myself and my insecurities. I guess I'm so used to fighting this need, afraid of my own feelings and how much I suddenly need your presence in my life. This has all happened so fast, and I already feel more alive and more centered because of you. I've always been a very independent woman and it's difficult for me to admit that I need your strength, and that I need your comfort. I need your discipline when I lose my way, and I'm ready to let my walls down. This is new and scary for the both of us, but you're right, we can figure it out together."

She spoke earnestly, her fingers nervously playing with my own as she allowed herself to be vulnerable. Isa may have been the very picture of confident and comfortable, but underneath it, she was as scared and vulnerable as every other woman.

She didn't want to get hurt, and she knew that by handing the reins over to me that she could be opening herself up for a whole world of it. What she had yet to understand was that I had as much power as she gave me. It was a known fact that submissives actually held the power in D/s relationship. Without a submissive, there was no dominant, and therein lay the power exchange.

"We can go as slow or as quick as we want with this," I soothed her. "There's absolutely no pressure. We'll both become more comfortable with these new roles as we explore and figure out what we want and need out of this relationship."

She nodded in agreement, but I could tell that she was getting a little overwhelmed. I didn't want to ruin our night together by pushing too hard so I quickly changed tact.

"Why don't we just focus on us tonight, and worry about all the rest in the morning," I suggested with a quirked eyebrow.

"You're right," she agreed, straightening her posture as her confidence made its return. She let out a long breath, her mood sweetening as she stood up and collected the dirty plates. I quickly moved to help, piling what was left behind as Isa sashayed toward the kitchen with our plates.

I juggled everything in my arms and followed her, dumping it all on the counter next to the sink.

"Be a doll and load the dishwasher for me," she requested, giving me a pout and batting her long lashes in my direction as if I needed an extra incentive.

I made a show of sighing and being reluctant, but I honestly felt better contributing a little when she had made a delicious meal. I couldn't deny that a part of me liked our little foray into domestication as she put the leftover food in containers before placing them in the fridge.

She started in on the washing up, and I grabbed a dish towel, drying my hands on it before moving to help.

"Let's play twenty one questions," she proposed as we built up a rhythm of washing and drying methodically.

"Alright, why don't you start?" I suggested.

"Okay! Have you ever had sex with someone of the same gender, or indulged in kissing or fondling?"

"Really, that's your question?" I asked incredulously though all the wine I had imbedded with the meal made me find it somewhat amusing.

She shrugged and grinned at me. "This is game is no fun unless its invasive and uncomfortable. Now, tell me, and no lying."

I let out a long breath, raking my fingers through my hair before answering. "Yes. I once made out with my college roommate. We were both drunk and had indulged in some ecstasy at a party, so when we were dared to make out, we just did it and then laughed it off. I'm surprised I even remember it."

"Someone was a bad boy in college," she teased. "My experience was pretty much the same, except that there was no drugs and she wasn't my roommate."

A surge of arousal at the thought of Isa making out with another girl ran through me, and it was with great difficulty that I managed to concentrate on asking her a question.

"Uh, who was your first crush?" I asked, saying the first question that popped into my head.

"Oh, that one's easy. My parents sent me to boarding school for one year when I was fourteen, which by the way was hell on earth. I had to share a room with seven stuck up, bitchy princesses who got their self esteem by stealing others, and for a girl who wasn't exactly skinny, I was their prime target. Anyway, I've always used music as my escape, and the school had a great music program with a really hot teacher. God, I can't even remember his name anymore, but he was young, passionate, and all the girls swooned over him. What about you?"

"My parents sometimes hired this babysitter to watch out for me and Eleazer while they were at benifits when I was young—somewhere around eight maybe—and I was convinced that I was going to marry her when I grew up. I think I proposed to her like five times."

"Aw, that is so cute," Isa cooed. "What is your favorite position to have sex in?"

"From behind," I answered without hesitation.

"As in doggy style?" she asked, raising an delicate eyebrow in question.

I shrugged, feeling at ease with sharing all this with her. "Not necessarily. It could bent over something, flat against the wall with me behind, in bed on your side...the possibilities are endless. I can get the deepest in that position, so it's an obvious choice for me."

"Huh, well, mine would be on top. Front or reverse cowgirl," she said confidently.

I couldn't help but let my mind wander, imagining her breasts bouncing and jiggling as she rode me hard. She would be fierce and sweaty, her dark hair a tangled mess...

"Edward!" Isa called out loudly, dragging me harshly from my thoughts. "Stop thinking about me riding you, and ask a question."

I smiled sheepishly, letting out a strained chuckle as I reached down to shift my swelling cock into a more comfortable position. "What do you enjoy doing that no one else knows about?" I asked.

She hummed in contemplation. "I love reading hentai comics. It's Japanese anime porn, and I can usually find something with a good plot as well as lots of sex," she confided with a blush.

"I'm a closeted nudist," I revealed. "Carlisle has walked in on me strolling and milling around my apartment, naked, too many times for me to count. It isn't even embarrassing anymore."

"You never cease to surprise me," Isa murmured.

I chuckled. "The feeling is entirely mutual," I replied. "Where's the weirdest place you've ever had sex in?"

She barked out a laugh. "Wow, okay. Probably a train station bathroom stall. It's really hard to maneuver around, and people kept coming in and out. It isn't easy to stay aroused when someone's taking a piss in the next stall. You?"

"A hospital. It was just after my parents died, and was really angry, so I grabbed my then girlfriend and fucked the living daylights out of her in the nearest empty room," I told her, frowning a little at the memory. Kate and I broke up right after the funeral, and I couldn't say that I had been all that heartbroken over it.

"Have you been caught having sex ?" Isa asked, stopping me from sinking into the darkness of my thoughts.

"Yep. I'd just lost my virginity, and we were just getting started on round two when my father walked in."

"I thank my lucky stars my father has never caught me with a guy. He still thinks of me as his little princess. In fact, I've never been caught at all. It was a close call a few times, but I've always managed to escape any kind of tight situation." She looked awfully proud of that fact, and I held back a laugh.

"My very own Houdini," I teased.

She flicked some water at me, and I retaliated by winding the dish towel and whipping her ass with it. She squealed as it snapped against her, laughing as she turned the detachable faucet head in my direction and sprayed me.

I stood gaping at her, not quite willing to believe that she had actually sprayed me. I pulled my shirt out from where it was sticking to my skin and narrowed my eyes at her.

"You better run, little girl, because when I catch you..." I let my sentence trail off as her eyes widened and she high-tailed it out if the kitchen.

I chased after her, running around the living room as she weaved through the furniture. I was surprised how fast she was as she ducked and slithered out of my grasp each time, diving behind things for protection.

I finally caught up with her by the couch, tackling her down on it. I twisted, making sure that I took most of the brunt of our fall as we bounced on the cushions. She was panting and giggling my fingers dug into her ribs, tickling her until she begged for mercy.

She was rumpled and flushed by the time I finally stopped, her eyes shining brightly and those fucking dimples making me want to kiss her senseless. Our eyes met and the laughter died down as I realized how intimate our position was. I was straddling her thighs, my upper half leaning over her body, held up by my hands.

She licked her lips, dragging her tongue over the plump flesh before swallowing. The tension spiked and I didn't fight her—I had no reason to—when she pushed herself up on one elbow and reached out, pushing the tendrils of my unruly hair out of my face before urging it down to meet her lips.

I dipped my head down, resting my forehead against hers for a moment before tilting my head to the side and giving into the temptation that were her lips. She sighed, her plush lips molding against mine as her arms slipped. around my neck. They yielded beneath the pressure I was exerting, her fingers playing with the soft hair on the nape of my neck as I deepened the kiss, my tongue delving into her mouth.

Our tongues tangled together effortlessly, twisting and stroking languidly against each other. I shuddered as she dug the blunt tips of her nails into my scalp before dragging them down across my skin to cup my jaw, my stubble pressing into her palm.

Her plump lips puckered into a pout when my mouth retreated from hers, and I shuddered, a groan fresh on my lips as her hands dipped beneath my shirt, making a slow, seductive path up my bare chest.

Her touch left a trail of heat in its wake, and I hardened, my cock swelling and jerking as it came to life. It pulsed and strained uncomfortably against the zipper of my jeans in a bid for freedom. It was almost painful, the way it throbbed, the slit at the tip leaking pre-cum down my thigh. I hissed as I reached down, palming myself lightly before shifting my erection upwards so that it was tucked into the waistband of my pants, minimizing exposure and pain.

My hips bucked instinctively at the contact, and I had to force myself to calm down and gain a little control before I came all over myself like a fifteen year old virgin.

Her finger tangled in the dusting of coarse hair along it, tugging gently at it as I ducked my head down, latching onto the pale arch of her throat.

I placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along her neck before sucking and nipping gently at her pulse point.

She moaned throatily, the sound created to go straight to my cock, and writhed, her hips shifting and seeking my own.

Her dress rode up her thighs, exposing the length of those legs I had fantasized about being wrapped around my waist since I first saw her. I'd had a taste, a teaser, of them on our last date and at the fundraiser, but tonight I could feel them intimately without any barriers.

My hands roved over them, caressing her silk like skin with my rough, calloused hands as she maneuvered them out from between my legs.

I had been so distracted that I hadn't noticed the soft pull of the buttons of my shirt being spilled through their holes until she parted my shirt, pushing it impatiently over my shoulders.

I pulled my lips back from where a light bruise are forming on her neck, and sat back on my haunches. I met her gaze as I shrugged out of my shirt, the intensity of hers burning with need.

The questions danced back and forth between us as we silently asked each other just how far we were planning to go tonight.

There was no doubt that I would be staying, sex or no sex, but here, outside of everything we were figuring out and working toward in our relationship, I let her lead. We were equals in this part of our relationship, and I waited for her to take the next step.

I was desperate for her, my gut churning with want as lust pulsed through my veins in a weak attempt to replace all the blood that had surged to my cock.

She looked up coyly at me from under her lashes, her eyes dark and her eyelids heavy. She rolled her bottom lip into her mouth almost as if she were nervous or shy, the apples of her cheeks a dusty pink.

The muscles of my stomach contracted as she reached up and traced her fingers over them. She teased me, sliding her hand down to toy with the edge of my pants for a moment before dipping her fingers underneath, scratching lightly at my pubic hair above my engorged cock.

I hissed, my eyes rolling back into my head as a shudder wracked through my body. She slithered her way up my body, rubbing against me like a cat in heat, one hand in my pants and the other ghosting up my side.

She reached up, nipping at my jaw, scraping her teeth along the edge until she reached my ear.

"Are you going to take me to bed, or am I going to have to beg you?" she murmured huskily, her hot breath fanning out over my already overheated skin.

I repressed a shudder as goosebumps raised on my skin and let out a breathless chuckle, both relief and urgency clear in it.

My hands gravitated to her ass, grasping the round, supple globes as I pulled her flush against my body, letting her feel every inch of me. She gasped in surprise, not having anticipated my move, and I chuckled again. "Don't worry, you'll beg," I told her before reaching further down and grabbing hold of the back of her thighs as I stood up.

She moved gracefully, wrapping her legs fluidly around my waist as her head tipped back, waves of her tumbling down her back as she shook it out. I wound a hand through the glossy locks, letting the natural progression of give and take lead me as I crashed our lips together. We groaned simultaneously at the contact, the spark bursting into flames as pillowed flesh gave way to soft, wet tongues and nipping teeth.

Her hands dove into the thick strands of my hair, tugging at my hair and making my scalp burn delishiously.

I had no fucking clue where her bedroom was, and I stumbled down the hall, banging into things left and right until Isa started giggling, forcing our mouths to separate.

"Second door to the right," she breathed before dragging my mouth back to hers.

Somehow I managed to find my way down the hall, fumbling clumsily as I opened the correct door with one hand, my lips still glued to Isa's.

My feet tripped over the carpet and we fell into the room as I almost lost my footing. I tore my mouth from hers, my breathing shallow and my pulse erratic as I forced myself to slow down. I reminded myself that we had all night as I backed toward the bed, stopping when my knees hit the edge of it.

We kissed slow and deep as I loosened my hold on her, letting her slide down the length of my body until her feet hit the ground.

I sat down, drawing her to stand between my parted legs. Her teeth worried her bottom lip, her lashes casting shadows across her cheeks in the moonlit room.

She looked like an ethereal seductress as she teased me, running her hands over her thighs as she slowly inched her dress higher and higher. There was a fire in her eyes, a burning inferno growing hotter and hotter as she tugged her dress up past her hips and midriff before ridding herself of it completely.

Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders in thick messy waves, the delicate arch of her brow rising and her dark, swollen lips pulling into a smirk as my eyes roamed her body hungrily.

There were no adequate words to describe just how breathtaking she looked in her bra and cheekies, the deep purple a stark contrast to her ivory skin.

Her voluptuous curves were on display before my eyes, the trail of black silhouetted swallows I had glimpsed before traveling along the line of her pelvis before curving around her hip.

Her underwear rode low over her hips, the material clinging to her pussy and slipping between the crevice of her folds.

My eyes drifted upward, the way Isa's bra cupped her full breasts, pushing them up and making the ample swells seem larger, made a shudder of lust race down my spine.

My fingers danced over the supple flesh of her hips as I leaned forward, my lips caressing the delicate curve of her slender waist, parting and skimming over the soft, silken skin.

My breath fanned out across her stomach, warming her flesh and causing the muscles to tense as the heat slithering its way underneath her skin.

She moaned breathlessly as my hands snaked behind her, dipping under her little shorts to palm the firm, plump cheeks of her perky ass.

She looked like a goddess as she stared down at me, dark lustful eyes meeting mine from under thick lashes. She reached behind, arching her chest forward as she tugged the clasp of her bra free. Her body seemed to sway, her hips swinging gently as she slowly pulled the straps of her bra down her arms until her naked breasts were revealed.

The round, supple globes of her breasts heaved up and down, her coral nipples swollen and taut. I kissed my way up her stomach, darting my tongue out to taste her sweet skin.

I raised a hand, palming and fondling one breast while engulfing the other in my mouth. She mewled, bowing forward into my touch as my tongue flicked and swirled around the sensitive taut bud.

I twisted and plucked at the nipple not in my mouth, paying it as close attention as the other. She was like putty in my hands, easily immersing herself in the pleasure I was giving her.

"Please," she whimpered, her breaths coming out in pants. Her head was tipped back, her swollen lips were parted and her eyes scrunched shut.

I released the nipple from my mouth with a pop, letting my hand retreat back to its previous position on her ass. My head moved down, inhaling the thick, heady scent of her arousal as I sought out its source. I nuzzled my face against the crotch of her underwear, feeling the drenched material against my skin, the proof of her arousal—of how I affected her—undisguisable.

Her hands laced through my hair, gripping it as she breathed heavily, her fingers flexing in anticipation.

I dragged her boyshorts down her thighs achingly slow as she squirmed in my grip, her round hips shimmying from side to side impatiently.

I nudged the back of her thigh, silently requesting her to lift her foot, which she did without hesitation, and I grasped her ankle, tugging it over my shoulder.

I dragged her body forward, taking in her bare mound and the tiny landing strip of hair covering her folds. Her pussy was better than my mind could ever conjure up, plump, swollen lips pouted down low beneath her navel.

Her clit peeked out from between her parted folds enticingly, pink and engorged. Even in the darkness of the room, I could see that she was slick with arousal, her wetness dribbling from her pussy. Her swollen labia forced her lips to split open, leaving every part of her pussy exposed to my gaze. She was like an exotic, ripe fruit cut open and just waiting to be devoured.

"You're so wet for me," I murmured, leaning forward and nuzzling her mound, this time without the obstruction of her underwear. Her skin was satin smooth, the short, damp curls of her pubic hair rubbing against my chin.

Her hips bucked forward, and she let out a mewl as I placed an open-mouthed kiss on her pussy. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, and I groaned against her flesh, unable to stop my tongue from darting out to taste her.  
It slipped between her folds, flattening out as I lapped at her from bottom to top, pausing to suck on her clit.

I devoured her, her juices coating my lips and my tongue holding no hesitancy as it delved into the sweet abyss of her pussy. My eyes fluttered shut as I groaned in ecstasy, feeling her gush into my mouth. I was drowning in her pussy, completely surrounded and high on it.

I sucked and licked, my pace unhurried as I ate her out, my teeth scraping gently over her sensitive clit.

"Oh God," she keened as she jerked against me, forcing my face deeper into her pussy until she eclipsed every one of my senses. I could smell only her, taste only her, touch only her, hear only her, and see only her; nothing else registered or mattered.

Her thighs quivered, her muscles clenching and tightening as she yanked at my hair, guiding my face down, away from her clit.

"Inside me," she panted, unafraid to tell me what she needed.

She tipped her hips forward, silently encouraging me to go further as her fingers flexed in my hair. I ran my tongue through her labia, cocking my head to the side as I pressed inside her and started fucking her with it.

She rose up, her thighs trembling as she climbed higher and higher. I plunged my tongue inside her, thrusting it in and out lazily as I lapped up everything she gave me.

She was completely unrestrained as she fell, shattering into a million pieces, my hands losing their hold on her hips as she bucked her hips up into my face.

Her hips rocked and rolled unevenly, milking her orgasm, and I didn't have to be able to see her to know that she was beautiful when consumed by the pleasure that I gave her.

Her release caused a new wave of arousal to flow from her body, which I lapped up greedily as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

She was unsteady as she came back into herself, her grip on my hair giving her balance as she panted and trembled. A light sheen of sweat covered her nude body as she shoved me backward so that I was lying flat on my back before her hands descended to my pants.

She undid the button and pulled down the zipper if my pants, and I lifted up my hips in assistance as she pulled them—along with my boxers—down my legs.

My cock sprang free, slapping against my stomach as it throbbed and twitched, the red skin pulled taut around the swollen girth of my erection.

I groaned, my mouth going slack for a moment as her warm fingers wrapped around me, fisting my cock tightly. She stroked me languidly, collecting the pre-cum dribbling from the almost purple, engorged tip as I thrust up into her palm.

It was almost embarrassing how close I was already, the sight of her small hand stretched around me enough to make my balls lift and tighten.

"Stop," I gritted out from between clenched teeth, my words more of a plea than a command. "I'm too close."

She pouted adorably as she released me, disappearing momentarily from view before coming back with a condom. I wasn't even fully undressed, my pants around my ankles as I lay there, my feet planted firmly on the floor.

Isa straddled me as she ripped open the condom wrapper with her teeth. She pinched the tip of my cock, making my hips roll forward as she rolled the condom down over me with expert fingers.

Everything seemed to fade away, and the room disintegrated around us as our eyes met, locking in a heated stare.

She rose up, positioning my cock at her entrance, both of us bracing ourselves for what was about to happen as she slowly eased her way down over me.

Her muscles fluttered around me, stretching around the intrusion of my cock as she sank down into my lap. Her tight, slick pussy enveloped me fully and our pelvises pressed flush against each other as I thrust up to meet her, one hand clasped on her hip.

I tried to swallow, my throat feeling dry and tight as I fought against the need to cum bubbling up inside me. She placed her hands on each side of my shoulders, her upper half hovering over mine as she dipped her head down so that our lips sat centimeters apart, waiting. Her hair fell down around us like a curtain, immersing us in our own little bubble.

I grasped her hips tightly, trying to ground myself and focus on something other than how overwhelming it felt to have her walls clinging and spasming around me. For a brief moment, I wondered how I had been able to give this up, this other worldly pleasure, but I reminded myself that it was empty without the knowledge of a deeper connection.

It was only when my grip loosened and I released a long sigh that she started to move.

I leaned up on my elbows as our mouths gravitated toward each other, our tongues delving and twisting around one another as our hands moved to touch every strip of available skin.

I eventually tore my mouth away from hers, eager to watch her move over me as she started rocking and rolling her hips. My earlier fantasies hadn't done her any justice, the way her supple breasts bounced and swayed hypnotizing, and the look of pure bliss on her face enough to make my gut churn and my balls lift up and tighten.

My hips surged up, thrusting my cock deeper into her as my head fell back and my eyes rolled back into my head. Her warm, wet lips caressed my neck, little sighs of pleasure escaping her as we slid against each other, our bodies slick with sweat.

Her breath was hot against my skin, searing into my skin as I ghosted my lips along her jaw. I sucked the sensitive skin behind her ear as she whimpered, her pussy clenching and tightening in response.

"You feel so good," I breathed out, my nails digging into the skin of her hips as she rode me fiercely. "So fucking tight and hot."

She was doing most of the work in this position, but it didn't stop me from meeting each thrust with my own and pulling her down harder on me. Our moans and grunts of pleasure were drowned out by the slapping of skin, and I was practically delirious with lust, wanting and needing the release that my body was begging for.

She was glorious to watch, so confident and feminine, as she moved over me, her head tipped back and her blunt nails digging into my back and shoulders. Blood pulsed past my ears, thrumming in my veins as every inch of my body came alive. Sweat trickled down the edge of my jaw, the heat and friction we were creating sparking with electricity.

We pushed and pulled, pressing forward and receding as my heart pounded against my chest.

This wasn't a race, and I think she knew as well as I did, that I wasn't going to last much longer. We simply enjoyed the feel of each other's bodies pressed against one another, neither of us were rushing to the finish line.

Our lips meshed together, teeth crashing, tongues delving as we connected on a different level. I wanted to learn every little detail about her body, trace my tongue along line, dip, and mole, and I hoped to God that she would let me.

"That's it, baby, ride me," I encouraged breathlessly.

She ground herself down on me, twisting her hips slightly so that the tip of my cock hit deeper inside her. My hands moved slowly but deliberately over her body, letting them wander upwards across her smooth, soft stomach. My fingers teased and danced over her skin lightly, skimming the underside of her breasts as she let out a breathy moan.

I cupped and fondled one, tugging at her puffy nipple as my hips faltered before speeding up. I could feel a tightening in my groin and I gripped the sheets behind me for leverage as I slammed up into her, plunging my cock into her pussy, feeling it clench and contract around me. I could smell sex in the air, taste it on my tongue and feel it dripping down my skin.

"I'm close," I grunted, my words muffled as my lips attached themselves to her neck, sucking and licking her sweaty skin. I let out a groan as she yanked my head, pulling my mouth away from her skin as her own descended along my throat, nibbling and sucking desperately as her hips stuttered, and her muscles convulsed around me.

"Come for me," she whispered, her lips ascending to my ear. I shuddered as her hot breath fanned out across my skin, my muscles tensing. "I want to feel you cum inside me."

Her words combined with the way her body moved and tightened around me was too much. A strained drawn out groan left me as the muscles of my stomach contracted and my thrust became erratic. The coil snapped as shudders started to run down my back, spreading down to my thighs as I let go. Fire surged through my body, filling my balls with liquid heat as my cock exploded, shooting streams of cum deep inside of her.

I snarled, groaning and grunting as my cock jerked and pulsed, emptying everything I had inside the condom. I milked my orgasm, my thrusts stuttering as the pleasure fell over me like a blanket. My hips rolled forward in a slow arch as my climax started to recede, prolonging the exquisite feel of her clenching around me.

I felt almost dizzy as I fell back against the bed, panting heavily, the spasms in my body slowly diminishing. Isa reached out, running her hands through my sweaty hair as I came back down, my heart still galloping like a track horse at the Derby.

My mind was quiet, almost silent, as I basked in the moment, letting her ministrations soothe my spent body. I blinked slowly, my head lolling as I gazed up at her, trying to push through the bout of lethargy currently weighing down my body.

"Well, fuck," I muttered, my mind not eloquent enough to string together a sentence. My tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth, and a yawn was fresh on my lips.

Isa laughed softly, the sound low and carefree as it vibrated from her body to mine.

"That's one way to describe it," she murmured, her eyes glinting in the dark. Her hair was mussed, falling in tangled waves around her shoulders and though I hadn't been able to make her cum while I was inside of her she seemed content.

"Sorry I didn't last," I told her as I slipped from her body with a hiss, the raw feeling that accompanied it uncomfortable.

She shrugged, unperturbed. "I already came before," she reminded me. "Plus, it usually takes awhile before I come again after an orgasm. They make me really sensitive."

I wasn't sure how she did it, but she always seemed to know the right thing to say to assuage my worries, and—in this case—help keep my ego from deflating. She was honest and blunt, and it was a relief to know that she wasn't just saying it to make me feel better. I had no doubt that Isa would tell me exactly how she felt without mincing her words in any situation.

I shifted my body, carefully maneuvering out from under her. I sat up, bringing her in for a lazy, passionate kiss before kicking off my pants and pushing myself to my feet.

"Be back in a minute," I murmured, raising my hands above my head, and stretching my muscles as I strolled, naked, across the hall to the bathroom to discard of the condom.

I grimaced as I pulled the condom off, knotting it at the top before throwing it in the trash. One thing I could honestly say that I hadn't missed about sex was cleaning up afterwards. I took my time, taking a piss and using the washcloth to rid myself of most of the sweat and any lingering body fluids before sauntering over to the front door where I had left my bag. I pulled on a fresh pair of boxers before hosting my bag over my shoulder and heading back to Isa's bedroom.

She stepped out of her small en suite bathroom just as entered the room dressed in a loose tank top with "DILF" printed in bold white letters and some tight little shorts. She'd brushed and pulled back her hair in a ponytail, but the evidence of what we had just done lingered in the way her cheeks were still a little flushed and her swollen lips were big enough to rival Angelina Jolie's.

"Which side of the bed do you sleep on?" she asked as she sauntered toward the bed.

"The left is good," I told her, guessing from the amount of stuff on the right nightstand that it was her preferred side. I didn't really have a preferred side. Hell, the middle of the bed was usually my spot of choice back at my apartment.

She gave me an appreciative smile and climbed in on the right side while I went to brush my teeth. It was indiscernible before, but looking into the mirror above the sink while I brushed my teeth showed the absence of the tension I had been towing around for the last few years.

I was practically humming by the time I exited her en suite, pausing in the doorway to watch her as she sat propped up against the headboard, her glasses perched on her nose as she read The Hobbit.

"Is this one of your quirks: reading after sex?" I asked jokingly as I strolled into the room and slid beneath the covers on the left side. I rolled to lie on my stomach, a pillow hugged to my chest as I looked over at her.

"I never need an excuse to read, but, in this case, I didn't want to fall asleep before you got out of the bathroom," she explained, putting down her book and taking off her glasses as she yawned.

She turned off the bedside lamp, enveloping the room in darkness, and scooted down beneath the covers.

"You don't snuggle in your sleep, do you?" she questioned. "I only ask because I get hot at night and I don't like to be smothered."

I shook my head, somewhat relieved that she brought it up. I was used to sleeping alone, and the thought of anyone—even Isa—being in my space left me feeling a little out of sorts. "No, space is good," I told her.

She leaned over, kissing me soft and slow one last time in a silent goodnight before twisting to lie with her back to me.

I shifted, turning my face in Isa's direction as I burrowed further under the covers, shifting into a comfortable position. I folded my arms under my pillow, letting my body adjust to sleeping in the same bed as someone else.

As I was lying there, saturated in Isa's scent, my mind slowly drifting off, I was hit by a realization. Maybe it wouldn't happen today, or even next week, but in that moment I knew that it was only a matter of time before I fell in love with this beautiful, bewitching woman.

**AN: So, what did you guys think? Leave me some love, it's my birthday in a few days!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: When are they going to start playing Daddy/little girl?**  
**A: Never fear, the real kink comes next chapter.**

**Q: Are you, personally, into BDSM?**  
**A: No, I'm not, but I know people who are and follow a lot of kink oriented blogs.**

**Q: What made Edward swear off women altogether?**  
**A: Well, if I told you that then Edward wouldn't be able to tell you himself.**

**Q: Will their heated kiss at the orchestra be pictured in the tabloids?**  
**A: No, not this time, but, in the future, there may be some shots of them leaked to the press.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 8**

**AN: Thanks to BellaDean and darcysmom from PTB for beta'ing this, and to Bec Rose for pre-reading it. I feel like I should add this will be different from Who's Your Papi. Same kink, different style.**

**Disclaimer: The most important thing for you guys to remember is that despite the intense role-play displayed in this chapter, Isa is not a teenager. She's a consenting adult, agreeing to a dynamic where her dominant—in this case, Edward—takes the position of a father figure with some additional benefits. They are not really father and daughter, and this whole dynamic had absolutely nothing to do with incest. They aren't breaking any laws. Okay, you got all that?**

**Playlist:**

**Makes Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless**  
**Shake It Out by Florence and the Machines**  
**Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden**

**...**

It took me a moment to figure out where I was as I slowly slipped back into consciousness. The familiar smell of cherries and vanilla wafted through the air, permeating the pillow my head was resting on. A small smile curved up on my lips as the events of the night before drifted to the forefront of my mind, brushing away the remnants of sleep as I became acutely aware of the fact that my morning erection was nestled against Isa's ass.

I yawned, stretching my muscles, and slid one of my legs between hers, while I let my arm curl around her narrow waist. She stirred, reacting to my touch by pressing herself back against me and snuggling into my arms.

I nuzzled her hair, breathing her scent in as my fingers stroked the soft skin of her stomach between her underwear and tank top. She hummed, arching and flexing her lithe body, her firm ass wiggling against my semi-hard cock, eliciting a groan from me that rumbled through my chest.

She giggled softly, hugging the covers around her shoulders but leaving her legs peeking out.

"You know, I've finally found one of your flaws," I murmured, trailing kisses along the length of her neck.

"Oh, really?" she mumbled, her voice raspy with sleep.

"Uh huh. You, darling, are a bed hog." I told her. She laughed softly, twisting in my arms to face me, all heavy-lidded sleepy eyes and mussed hair. She nibbled on her bottom lip, running her warm toes along my calves.

"And you have hairy legs," she replied matter-of-factly.

I chuckled, sliding my knee back between her legs as I leaned up on my elbow, my head resting against my hand. "I'm not sure how those two things measure up to one another," I told her, unable to keep the humor out of my voice.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were pointing out the obvious," she deadpanned sassily.

She squealed as I dug my fingers into her ribs in retaliation, tickling her. There were no awkward pauses or morning after regrets here, just effortless happiness. I hadn't realized until now that I had expected things to change since we'd had sex, because wasn't that what always happened? But while there was a definite shift, a closer, more intimate connection between us, she was still the same woman that had asked me whether or not I was a serial killer.

We eventually pulled ourselves out of Isa's bed, each of us heading to separate bathrooms to shower and change before meeting in the kitchen for breakfast.

I strolled lazily into the kitchen in just my jeans from the night before, sans boxers, and leaned back against the counter, watching Isa make pancakes from scratch, her iPod playing some old classics. She had changed into a pair of tight little boyshorts that allowed half of her ass to fall out of the bottom, and a wife beater that was pulled tight across her chest, the swells of her breasts visible over the top.

The shorts sat low on her hips, leaving a sliver of creamy skin between them and her top that ended just below her navel. I wasn't sure what I had done in my life to deserve something so beautiful, each curve voluptuous and sculptured with the finesse of a master artist, but I would treasure her for as long as she was mine.

"Edward," she huffed as I moved up behind her, my hands splaying out on her supple hips as my lips attached themselves to the curve of her throat.

I hummed in response, pressing my hardening cock into her ass. Even though the word made me cringe, I couldn't deny that I felt a little needy. I allowed my hands to wander beneath her top, ghosting over her skin as I reaffirmed myself through her. It wasn't about sex—though I wasn't opposed to the thought of bending her over the counter and fucking her—it was about reminding myself that this goddess of a woman was mine, that my insecurities were unfounded and any budding jealousy about the other men who had come before me were inconsequential.

My fingers danced up over the arch of her ribs before descending down to swirl around her navel and trace along her pelvis, my touch seeming more intimate than when it was directed at her breasts or between her legs.

How she managed to concentrate on making breakfast while I was pawing at her I wasn't sure, but she didn't protest my advances, somehow knowing that I needed to touch her.

She guided me toward the table with a large stack of pancakes, wiggling out of my grip as she flitted over to the cabinet to get maple syrup.

She giggled sweetly when I tugged her to sit on my lap, her eyes sparkling and her dimples showing as she settled herself across my legs, crossing her socked thighs.

I fed her bites of food from my fork, my eyes transfixed on the way her plump lips pouted and pursed around the fork as she drew it into her mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste. She wasn't shy about reciprocating, offering me bites from her own fork so that we were feeding each other instead of ourselves.

"Edward!" she squealed in indignation as I purposefully smudged syrup along her cheek. I chuckled, leaning over and licking and sucking it from her skin.

"Hmm, delicious," I murmured, and she pushed against my chest in mock exasperation.

"You are impossible," she grumbled, but didn't fight me as I angled my face for a kiss, stroking the back of her neck as our lips moved together in a soft, sweet kiss.

"And here I was thinking that it was one of my better traits," I deadpanned, mumbling the words against her mouth.

"Oh, it is." The corners of her lips twitching as she fought against a full-fledged smile threatening to stretch across her mouth.

I chuckled, and nudged her gently in retaliation. "Always so mouthy," I said in mock exasperation.

"You wouldn't want me any other way," she responded confidently, one brow arching delicately, daring me to challenge her statement.

"It's unfortunate, but true," I quipped. Her gasp in response was indignant before cringing at the pain of her hand connecting with my bare chest. "I'm just kidding, baby," I murmured, leaning over to kiss her pout in apology.

"Hmmm, you better," she said, welcoming my lips against hers, and then after a while my tongue in her mouth.

Between us, we managed to eat the whole stack of pancakes and finish off a small pot of coffee, our appetites fueled by the events of the night before.

We probably could have eaten quicker, but between our teasing, talking, and kissing, we ended up eating for a good hour.

Once we had finished, Isa placed the cutlery and plate in the sink before returning to my lap. Instead of sitting across my lap like she had previously, she sat astride me, straddling my hips as she peeked up at me from beneath her thick lashes, her expression cautious and vulnerable.

"Can we talk now?" she asked softly, not needing to clarify her statement for me to be aware of the subject she wished to bring up. I snaked my hands around her waist, gripping the ample globes of her ass as I pulled her closer, trying to ignore how great it felt to have my semi-hard cock nestled comfortably in the curve of her ass.

"Of course," I told her, lifting a hand to brush a few stray hairs out of her face. I tucked them neatly behind her ear, the silken strands curlier and thicker than usual as they fell in waves around her face.

She let out a long breath, her fingers playing nervously with the light dusting of hair covering my pecs. "I-I don't know where to start," she admitted, a furrow appearing between her elegant brows as she thought hard. "I know we've talked briefly about what we each hope to get from this, and you know that I'm not interested in a lot of things out there. I don't want what we have to be overly elaborate; I want to keep things simple. I have never been a pink and frilly kind of girl, and I was thinking that maybe I could just stick to cotton boyshorts and tank tops with tube socks, and maybe some skirts and little dresses that aren't over the top. For me, this isn't about bondage or toys, it's about intimacy and submission."

"I have always been independent, Edward, and I don't see that changing, but there is a part of me, an inherently female part, that craves to having a man take charge and dominate me. I want his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality to become the touchstone, the command, and my pivot. I want to be pursued, fucked, and possessed by the will of a man, by his bidding if only for a few hours every now and then," she said passionately, the desperate craving in her eyes showing me just how much she wanted it, needed it.

My cock twitched at her words, and I forced myself to swallow back the lust that bubbled up at her words. "And spankings?" I asked, my voice hoarse and raspy. I already knew the answer, but a part of me wanted to hear her say it again.

She squirmed in my lap, her teeth sinking into the plush flesh of her bottom lip. "Would it be weird if I told you I was kinda looking forward to that aspect of this?" she questioned. "I mean, it isn't like I get off on pain. I just...I don't know, it excites me."

Her eyes showed the conflict that came with her admission, the lingering unsurety that came with the lifetime of do's and don'ts that society had ingrained into her. I wanted to rid her of it so that she could revel in her femaleness. Isa contained the freedom and inner confidence to become the girl she desired. She just needed to tap into the part of her she had suppressed for so long.

"Not any more weird than me getting hard while thinking about doing that to you," I answered honestly, wanting her to know that she wasn't alone in this. Our tastes and wants had so far been quite compatible, though I had been hesitant about the fact that she was interested in the use of implements when in terms for discipline and punishments. The thought of using canes, floggers, or paddles made me cringe a little. I'd seen the bruising and welts it could leave behind, but as with spanking, they were something that I would have to feel out before I made any solid decisions concerning them.

"God, you're just..." she trailed, unable to find the words that she was looking for. For a moment I actually wondered if she might start crying, the overwhelmed expression on her face looking like a ticking time bomb of emotion just waiting to be set off, but instead she grasped my face between her hands, her blunt nails digging into my stubbled cheeks as she fused our mouths together. I was expecting it to be frantic and out of control, but the way her lips moved against mine, hard and insistent yet achingly slow and deliberate, made it sensual. She was communicating, pouring her feeling out in a way that could not be expressed with words.

Our mouths slanted across each other as she dragged my bottom lip between her teeth, nipping softly on it as I sucked on her plump top lip. I cupped the back of her neck, holding her to me as I deepened the kiss further, my tongue seeking entrance in her mouth. She moaned softly, the sound breathless, like a wistful sigh, as she allowed me admittance, stroking and winding our tongue together until I wasn't quite certain whose was whose.

Our kiss eventually softened, becoming chaste, the importance of finishing our talk forcing us to reluctantly part. We both attempted to catch our breaths, our lips bruised and the lust between us hovering like a cloud above our heads. I licked my lips, loving the way they tingled, the ghost of her mouth against mine lingering behind along with the traces of her taste.

"We should finish talking before we get carried away again," I murmured, splaying my hands across her back under her wife beater. She shivered, nodding in agreement as she tried to catch her breath.

"I want to talk about my nipples," Isa said seriously, which caused me to snicker.

"I have absolutely no problem with that," I quipped.

She rolled her eyes and slapped my shoulder in annoyance. "You know exactly what I mean," she told me, her tone slightly exasperated.

I cleared my throat, sobering up and focusing on the topic at hand, "Have you booked an appointment yet?"

She shook her head, refusing to meet my eyes as her fingers moved to trace the tattoo that curled around my shoulder and bicep.

"And can I ask why?" I pressed. "Are you scared?"

She nibbled self-consciously on her bottom lip and shook her head. "It isn't that I'm scared," she corrected. "It's just the thought of someone sticking a needle through any part of my body isn't exactly pleasant. I really want to have it done, but I just can't make myself go through with it."

I knew what she needed me to do, and I allowed my hands to travel up the front of her top, causing her to grind her firm ass against my over eager cock as I pinched her nipples between my fingers.

She whimpered, squirming around as I rolled the buds in my fingers, my lips latching onto the sensitive skin behind her ear.

"How about this?" I murmured, feeling barely contained excitement churning in my gut at the thought of letting my newly discovered dominant side show. "I will book an appointment for you to have them pierced, but you're not going to get them done because you want it, you're going to get them done because you know that's what I want you to do. And you want to please me, don't you, little one?"

Her breathing quickened, and a flush made its way up her neck to her cheeks. "Yes, Daddy," she murmured, and I smiled, happy that she had called me "Daddy" without any prompting.

"Good girl," I praised her, planting a light kiss on her shoulder as I removed my hands from her taut, puffy nipples, much to Isa's displeasure.

"Edward," she murmured, putting us both back on track by reminding me that we couldn't play yet, not until we had all the ground rules sorted.

"Right, of course. I wanted to bring up safewords. I know you wanted to enforce the color system, but I also want you to have a word that will terminate the scene," I told her.

"Okay," she agreed. "How about vanilla?" Her eyes danced with mischief and she grinned, the irony of her safeword not lost on either of us.

"You can choose whatever word you want," I told her, my lips twitching up into a smile.

"Vanilla it is," she confirmed before letting out a sigh. "Are we really doing this?" she asked, unable to hide the excitement laced into her tone.

"Yes," I told her confidently.

"Really and truly?" she questioned.

"Really and truly."

She let out a long breath of what I gathered to be relief. "Holy shit, we're really doing this," she muttered to herself. "How though? I mean, I don't think I'm at the stage where I can completely let go of my inhibitions."

I ran my hands up and down the skin of her shapely thighs between her underwear and her thigh high, gray cotton socks, feeling the smooth, warm flesh beneath my fingertips. This feeling, the one of being needed and wanted embodied me, and I relished having the opportunity to guide her through the first steps of this.

"When you fantasize about this, what are your triggers?" I asked her.

"My triggers?" she questioned, her features scrunched up in confusion.

"What are the things you do to help you get in the right frame of mind, the things that make you feel small?" I explained.

Recognition flashed in her eyes, and her cheeks pinkened in shy embarrassment as she peeked up at me, her long, thick lashes sweeping upward toward her brow. She squirmed a little and swallowed, swiping her tongue over her plush lips nervously.

"Usually, when I want to feel small, I imagine my Daddy cradling me in his big, strong arms and rocking me gently. I cling to him, my head buried in his neck as I suck my thumb and inhale his manly scent," she whispered, her eyes distant as her voice gradually changed, rising to the sweet timbre of a girl years beneath her actual age.

I could already see that she was slipping into her role, and I stood up, scooping her body in my arms so that she was cradled against my chest. She fit perfectly in the crooks of my arms, almost as though she was meant to be there.

She released her bottom lip that had been trapped between her teeth and opened her eyes, the need clear in her beautiful dark gaze. There was such innocence and vulnerability in them that it instinctively provoked the possessive, dominant male inside of me to take care of her and shield her from the rest of the world.

"Daddy," she whimpered, her voice sweet and childlike as she slowly lifted her hand, her eyes never leaving mine as she slipped the tip of her thumb between her parted lips. She sucked softly on it, her bottom lip jutting out in a cute pout.

My cock jerked in my pants, straining upward against my zipper as it swelled with blood, the pre-cum dribbling from the slit at the tip making my skin slick.

I shushed her, sweeping my fingers through her thick, silken tresses as she burrowed her face in my neck, heavily breathing in my scent.

The tension shifted and the atmosphere changed as Isa switched from the independent woman I was used to seeing to the little girl in need of her Daddy. There was a sense of fulfillment in knowing that she needed me, and that it was me that she clung to so desperately.

She was so soft and supple against me, her warmth seeping through my skin as little puffs of hot air fanned out across my neck. I rocked her gently against me as she wriggled and writhed, soft little whimpers escaping her as she adjusted to this new role. A lullaby my mother used to sing to me as a child when I was restless came to mind and I started to hum the haunting, soothing tune.

She paused, listening as the sounds vibrated through my body. I wasn't even sure if she realized, but as I paced, rocking and humming, she relaxed, settling down with a soft sigh. The faint sound of suction reached my ears as she continued to suck on her thumb. I reached around her back to her stomach, pushing the material up over her stomach. She wiggled, a soft keen escaping, and I shushed her, cooing comfortingly in her ear as I rubbed my hand over her stomach.

I found it fascinating how the stomach was such a strong trigger for this kind of play. Pretty much every woman I had known was self-conscious about that specific part of her body. It was a part that they werd obsessed over—more than breast size or looks in some cases—yet it seemed to never to be quite right. It was a mental reaction, and it translated well in raising vulnerability and self-consciousness, thus making her feel even smaller.

"Daddy," she whined softly, her tone unsure as the feelings washed over her.

"Shhh," I murmured. "You have such a cute little tummy, don't you, Princess?"

She whimpered, her breaths coming out in uneven pants as I entered her bedroom and guided her down to lay back on the bed.

Big, brown, doe eyes stared up at me from under long lashes as she squirmed against the sheets, her thumb still poised between her lips. She kicked her legs out feebly, bending and spreading them as she dug her heels into the mattress, arching her back off the bed.

She pretended to be completely oblivious as her unfettered breasts jiggled beneath her wife beater, her position forcing her top to pull down further, giving me a slight hint of her areolas. Taut, puffy nipples strained against the fabric and kept the neckline from falling down underneath them.

I devoured her without repentance, watching the little show she was putting on for me as she twisted around to lie on her stomach and struggled to raise herself on her knees. Her boyshorts rode up her ass, slipping into the crack so more of her creamy flesh was revealed as she started crawling up the length of the bed.

The material hugged her pussy tightly, the cleft between her folds visible beneath the fabric as it bunched up inside it.

A jolt of excitement ran through me when I noticed the wet spot that had formed on the crotch of her underwear, making the material transparent so that the light dusting of dark pubic curls framing pink, engorged lips was discernible in stark detail.

Her demeanor and clothes created a confusing jumble of chastity and promiscuity that had my cock straining against the front of my pants. The way she was technically covered and yet almost entirely exposed to my gaze caused my control to waver under the force of the lust it provoked.

"Daddy?" she called out. I snapped my gaze up to meet hers, the innocent confusion there almost too much for me. It was if she didn't understand the hunger in my gaze, couldn't identify with why her Daddy would look at her in such a manner.

"Yes, Princess?" I replied, my gaze softening until I was looking at her in a more platonic way.

She smiled, eager to brush away what I was sure she had decided was a trick of the light or her growing, wayward mind.

"Brush my hair?" she requested sweetly, holding out a hairbrush.

I returned her smile and walked forward to the edge of the bed. "Of course," I agreed, taking the brush from her hand and sat down. "Come sit between Daddy's legs," I instructed, tugging the two hair ties free from the handle.

I could practically feel the contentment radiating through her body as she scooted over to sit between my thighs, her warm body snuggling up against me.

I dragged the hairbrush through Isa's thick tendrils from her crown to the ends, the motion of my long strokes calming me. I brushed and separated her hair, feeling the glossy waves in my hands as I expertly braided them together. My mother had taught me how to braid as a child, my fascination with her burnt amber hair always amusing her.

I let myself sink into my role with each twist of my wrist as I wound her hair together before tying the ends securely with the hair ties.

I was certain that she could feel my cock against the curve of her ass as it strained against the zipper of my jeans, fighting to get free.

"Daddy, something's poking me," she voiced innocently, wiggling her pert ass against the bulge that was "poking" her. I almost came in my pants at her words, a gush of pre-cum wetting the front of my jeans and leaving a wet spot that was almost visible against the dark fabric.

The naivety that she was portraying had me wanting to throw her down on the bed and fuck her right there and then, but I focused my attention on my breathing instead, attempting to calm myself.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I'm done now anyway."

She hopped up, giving me a very nice eyeful of her supple ass cheeks as she skipped over to the full-length mirror on the closet. I watched her closely, lustfully, as she inspected her hair, leaning forward slightly at the waist.

My hands curled into fists against my jean clad thighs as I used every ounce of control that I possessed to hold back. I doubted that even if I had wanted to that I couldn't have torn my eyes away from her gently swaying ass as she cooed happily over her pigtails.

"What do you think?" I asked, my voice coming out hoarse.

She straightened up slowly, purposefully teasing me, and turned around to face me. "I love it, Daddy," she said coyly, toeing the floor awkwardly with her socked foot as she peeked up at me from under her lashes.

She had never been more beautiful to me, even acting unsure and awkward, her shoulders caving in as she crossed her arms over her chest, "unintentionally" pushing her breasts up over the already drooping neckline.

For a moment, I was honestly unsure as to what to do. The continuously mounting lust and tension sparking between us made it hard to breathe, let alone think.

"Come here," I ordered softly, beckoning her forward. She clasped her hands behind her back, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she strolled toward me, not stopping until she was standing between my parted thighs.

She swayed back and forth, her expression expectant as she peeked coyly at me from under her long lashes.

"You're such a good girl, aren't you, Princess?" I murmured, trailing my hands lightly up the sides of her thighs.

She nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to the way my fingers lingered on her skin. "Uh huh."

"Then, may I ask, why you think that your current attire is appropriate?" I asked, my eyes flickering down briefly to where my hands were curled around her supple hips.

She flushed as I tugged the hem of her boyshorts away from her body to emphasize my point, and rubbed her thighs together. She executed her part perfectly, playing up on her self-consciousness by tugging down her tank top further over her stomach as though she was suddenly embarrassed by the amount of skin on display. Her move effectively pulled down the front of her top to cover part of her boyshorts, giving me a clear view of round, creamy breasts with puffy coral nipples.

"Don't you like it?" she asked innocently, a twinge of hurt slinking into her tone as she ducked her head so that she could peek at me from beneath her lashes. Her teeth sunk into the lush flesh of her bottom lip, nibbling on it gently as I raked my eyes over her body.

"I love it, Princess. But if anyone saw you going around with your little tits falling out of your top and your ass hanging out the bottom of those little shorts, they might think you're a tease," I explained.

She looked down at her body, a gasp of surprise falling from her lips as she raised her hands to cover her exposed breasts. I gripped her wrists in my hands before they could reach their destination, forcing them back down by her sides.

"Don't hide from me," I demanded, clasping her wrists behind her back with one hand while using the other to grab her chin, forcing her face up to meet my gaze. "You are mine to look at and do with as I see fit, Princess, is that understood?"

She swallowed, her throat muscles convulsing as she nodded jerkily, her wide, frightened eyes meeting mine.

"Good girl," I told her. "But if I ever see you dressed like this in front of another man, then there will be hell to pay. It's one thing to tease your Daddy, but it won't look so innocent to someone else. Now, over my lap. There are repercussions for teasing your Daddy. Only bad girls tease, and bad girls get a spanking."

She pouted. "But Daddy," she argued. "I didn't mean to tease. I'm a good girl."

"I know you're a good girl, Princess, which is why Daddy has to spank you so that you won't do it again," I explained calmly. Instead of manipulating her body to move into the proper position for a spanking by using my grip on her wrists as leverage to force her body over my lap, I sat back and waited for her to follow my previous instructions. I quirked an eyebrow in question as she hesitated, her skin flushing a dark pink as she moved grudgingly to lie over my lap, and while her attitude left something to be desired, I knew that a spanking would put her right back where she needed to be. She draped herself over my spread legs, her feet off the ground and her ass pointed high over the center of my lap.

"Arms behind your back," I ordered, and she clasped her hands together in the small of her back. I used one hand to keep them there, knowing that she would be tempted to move them at some point, and also reaffirming my control over her.

Her position over my lap meant that she was completely reliant on me to keep her steady since the only thing she was touching was my legs. She was helpless to fight against me as I tugged her boyshorts down over her ass until they rested half way down her thigh.

She wriggled uncomfortably, her partial nudity against my fully clothed body working to make her feel vulnerable and powerless. She tried to keep her thighs closed in an attempt to retain some of her modesty, but I was having none of it, roughly yanking her thighs apart to reveal her glistening, swollen pussy. My actions fueled her embarrassment, and it was these emotions that I was counting on to subtly arouse her.

I didn't rush as my palms dragged over the curve of her round, full ass, kneading and massaging her cheeks, alternatively pulling them apart and pushing them together. I watched how she responded to me, her body arching forward as she pressed her ass up in invitation. Goosebumps littered her skin, and she shivered in what I guessed to be anticipation.

As much as I struggled to admit it, I felt excitement at the prospect of spanking her. We had discussed and planned out this scene beforehand, not wanting to start out too heavily as we got comfortable with our new roles. Structure was important, and neither of us had been willing to wing it for our first time. It wasn't completely scripted, but we both knew what to expect and were not anticipating any surprises, good or bad.

"Are you ready?" I asked, focusing on my impending task rather than on the nerves churning through my gut.

"Yes, Daddy," she responded shakily, bracing herself for the first spank. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but the arousal at the feel of her flesh giving way beneath the force of my palm blindsided me. She jerked against me, pressing her body further into mine as she squirmed, her breath quickening and a cry escaping her lips as she struggled to stay composed.

My fingers tingled from the impact, my eyes hungrily taking in the way the blood rushed to the surface of her plump, ivory flesh. Though I was as hard as I had ever been in my life, my swollen cock feeling as though it might explode, I was relieved to know that I didn't get off on hurting her. It was the realization that she was completely submissive and at my mercy that had my balls lifting and tightening as pre-cum painted my lower abdomen just below the waistband of my jeans.

I wouldn't lie and say that feeling her soft, pliable flesh give way to the force I exerted didn't excite me, or the way she trembled, short pants escaping her as her muscles tensed and contracted didn't appeal to my darker, sadistic side that I was still coming to terms with.

It was never the pain though, rather the power and control I wielded that had my cock swelling. She had no reason to truly fear me, and she knew that, the trust we shared diminished those doubts.

I experimented with different levels of force, taking in her reactions as I alternated from the curve to the center of her ass, her cries and whimpers changing depending on the area and force. She struggled against the hand that kept her arms firmly in place, trying to escape.

I gazed with unconcealed fascination at the way her quivering body darkened, shifting from her usual pale tone to a light red as she arched and twisted her body with each stroke of my palm. She was exposed, vulnerable, and bare in every sense of world, ripped open and laid before me. With the way her thighs were spread, there was no hiding the arousal that glistened on the plump lips of her swollen folds.

It amazed me how with the simple flick of my wrist, I could invoke such strong reactions. I was certain that she was experiencing the same anticipation, fear, arousal, and ecstasy that was currently humming through my veins.

I rubbed her tender skin, trying to take some of the sting away before letting my hand descended downward, dipping between her parted legs. She stiffened, unsure how to react to her Daddy touching her so intimately as I cupped her pussy in my hand.

My fingers stroked over her folds, the sparse pubic hair tickling them as they fondled her satin soft flesh.

"Shhh," I soothed as she started squirming, trying to move away from my hand as a whimper fell from her lips. "You're such a good girl, aren't you?" I cooed.

My grip on her wrists never loosened as I spread her folds apart, opening her up to reveal pink, needy flesh. I dragged my fingers through her engorged labia, feeling how hot and slick she was as I gathered her arousal. I traced tight circles around her swollen clit, coaxing her body out of its stiff posture.

"Daddy!" she gasped, bucking against my hand.

"That feels good, doesn't it, Princess?" I crooned.

She made a breathless hum of agreement in response, wriggling her ass as she asked for more.

"Tell me," I ordered, dragging my fingers down to her entrance, circling it teasingly.

"It feels good, Daddy," she murmured, pushing back against my hand. I didn't just feel how slick she was as I sunk two fingers inside of her; I could hear it, the suction around my fingers like a hoover. She was tight and hot, her walls fluttering and squeezing as a soft moan escaped her.

"What feels good, Princess?" I questioned as I eased them back only to plunge them deep inside of her. "Tell Daddy what's making you feel good."

"Your hand in my kitty," she mewled, rocking back against said hand as I thrust my fingers in a steady rhythm.

She was dripping, her juices dribbling down her thighs as she moaned and sighed softly in pleasure.

"Oh, Daddy," she breathed as I stretched her further by adding another finger.

"You like that?" I asked, my breathing shallow and my cock on the verge of exploding.

"Yes, it feels nice," she responded sweetly.

I twisted and curled my fingers as I pumped them in and out of her, noticing how her thighs reflexively tensed and released as a light sheen of sweat appeared on her body. She quivered, her sounds of pleasure rising in volume as her walls spasmed around my fingers.

"Oh!" she panted, grinding against my hand. "Hmmm, Daddy."

"That's it, Princess. Let go," I urged her gently.

I reached out to pinch her engorged clit lightly, knowing that it was sensitive from the constant stimulation I had been giving her.

Her body stiffened and her breathing ceased for a long moment before a shudder wracked through her body, small tremors washing over her as her arousal gushed onto my hand.

Muffled whimpers left her and her hips undulated, twisting and shimmying as she tried to prolong her orgasm. I continued stroking her pussy, my fingers moving at a more languid pace as she slowly came back down, her chest heaving quickly.

She went limp, slumping forward across my legs as I slid my hand, wet with her juices, from her pussy, and lapped up her juices. My chest rumbled with a groan as I tasted her, sucking every last bit of her essence from my hand. Once I was certain that I had thoroughly cleaned up all of her arousal, I carefully maneuvered Isa, easily manhandling her body into a sitting position.

She clung to me tightly, wrapping her arms and legs around my body like a vice as she burrowed her face in my neck. I ran my hands through her hair, humming the same lullaby as I had earlier, aware that she was still in her little girl space and would need help coming back down.

Officially, the scene was over, everything we'd mapped out having been completed, but being as deeply immersed in this facet of herself meant that she wouldn't simply be able to snap out if it. I would have to coax her mind back from the space it had entered and bring the confident woman to the surface.

"You did so good, Isa baby," I murmured soothingly.

Her grip on me tightened as I stood, her blunt nails digging into my naked shoulder as she snuggled further into my arms.

I balanced her on my hip, one arm reaching around her body and holding her up by the thigh furthest from me as I walked across the hall to the bathroom. It was difficult to bend over and twist the faucets of the bath with Isa glued to me, but I managed, pouring in some bubble bath as the water rose.

She let out a disgruntled whine as I loosened her hold on me and sat her down on the toilet lid.

"Arms up," I instructed, trying to ignore the fact that her legs were spread to reveal her pussy still dark pink and swollen from her orgasm.

She raised her arms above her head lazily, and I tugged her top over her head and removed her socks, leaving her completely naked.

She seemed quite out of it as I sat her in the water, her fingers playing absently with the bubbles as she drew her knees up to her chest. I turned off the taps and kneeled by the tub, knowing that my presence would help bring her back down.

I pulled out the hair ties and brushed my fingers through her hair until it fell in waves around her shoulders before taking a cloth with her cherry scented body wash on it and started cleaning her.

I rubbed the cloth over her body in soothing circles, massaging her skin as she relaxed back, slipping further under the water. My cock, which had managed to deflate to a half-mast twitched back to life as I washed her breasts and carefully brushed it between her legs.

Her eyes—which at some point near the beginning had closed—peeled open slowly once I was done, her head lolling in my direction as she met my gaze and smiled, her dimples making depressions in her cheeks.

"Well, look who's back," I teased, my eyes searching hers carefully. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she mumbled, stretching her limbs. Her arm rose up, dripping in water as she reached out for me, drawing me in as she leaned over the side, capturing my lips in a languid kiss.

Her other arm moved to join the first, using her grip on me as leverage to pull her upper half over the side of the tub.

I chuckled against her lips, enjoying the feel of her soft, round breasts against my chest until I realized that she was attempting to climb out of the bath.

"What are you-" I started only to be cut off by the weight of her body collapsing on mine. I grunted as I fell back against the tiles, barely missing cracking my head open on them.

She was soaked, rivulets of water cascading from her body onto mine as she hovered over me. Even dripping with water, her hair falling limply and stringy around her face she was beautiful. Her skin looked almost translucent, the dusty pink of her lush, pouty lips standing out against the pearly white of her teeth as they sunk into it. Her dark eyes swirled with renewed mischief as she flicked open the button of my jeans and eased down my zipper over my straining cock. I let out a hiss of pleasure as my cock sprang free, smacking lightly against my stomach as pre-cum leaked from the almost purple bulbous head.

I swallowed thickly, my blood pulsing loudly in my ear as she ducked her head, brushing her hair back out of her face. She swooped down over my cock, opening her mouth wide as she took me, sliding her plump lips over me inch by wicked inch.

I winced as my head fell back against the hard floor, my mouth falling slack as my eyelids fluttered shut. I knew I wasn't going to last. I had been on edge way too long to last more than a couple of minutes, and I'm pretty sure she knew that. She didn't tease me or try to draw it out, and I groaned, my hands slipping down my stomach to hold her head in my hands. Her mouth was so wet and hot around me, the tight suction of her lips heavenly against my throbbing, engorged cock.

Her tongue swirled over the tip before dragging down the underside as she bobbed up and down, my hips thrusting up gently at the pace she had set. I ghosted the tips of my fingers down over her throat, feeling the muscles constrict as she swallowed around me.

She took more of me with each pass until I felt the swollen head nudge the back of her throat. A strained groan escaped me as my balls tightened, a burst of pleasure washing over me.

"I'm close," I warned, breathless pants escaping me. She doubled her efforts, hollowing out her cheeks, and I reveled in the little wet noises her mouth made as she sucked me down deeper.

My cock brushed the back of her throat again, and I cursed, the fire in my groin coiling tighter. Her mouth felt heavenly wrapped around my cock, my engorged flesh throbbing as I drew close to the edge.

My orgasm hit rather suddenly, the muscles in my stomach contracting as my thrust became erratic. The coil snapped as shudders started to run down my back, spreading down to my thighs as I let go.

I pulsed, my cock twitching as I shot streams of cum down her throat, curses falling in quick succession from my lips. She swallowed convulsively around me, the feel of her throat constricting around me enough to prolong my orgasm. My hips jerked up, milking every last drop of pleasure as I lay panting and satisfied on the floor.

I hissed as she pulled back, the cool air hitting my skin. Her lips were bruised as she licked them, cleaning any lingering fluids as she sat up, her face flushed.

I licked my dry lips, trying to regulate my breathing as I tucked myself back into my pants and sat up. "I'm guessing we should talk?"

She hummed in agreement. "Maybe we should put some clothes on first," she suggested, and I nodded, concurring.

We dried off and drained the bath before drifting back into Isa's room. I changed out of my wet jeans, replacing them with some boxers and a t-shirt while they dried. We grabbed two bottles of water and headed to Isa's bed, each of us sitting cross-legged across from the other as we recounted our feelings about the scene.

"I struggled a bit in the beginning to let go," Isa admitted, dragging her fingers through her hair. "My mind was whirling a mile a minute with the possibilities of where the scene could go. I was pretty fucking nervous, but then you started humming and the voices quieted, and I just let myself feel and experience. It was like on a subconscious level I knew that you were in control, and I knew that I could trust you, that you would never do anything to hurt me."

"And the spanking?" I asked, nervously searching her face for confirmation that she had enjoyed it as much as her wet pussy had suggested. My heart beat a little unevenly as I waited for her answer, the pause between the end of my question and the beginning of her answer seeming to stretch on forever.

"It was...more than I expected, if that makes sense. I've always thought of spanking as erotic, but to experience it made my fantasies seem dull in comparison. The pain was a little surprising at first, but it was also grounding and freeing. It reiterated my place beneath you, yet gave me the freedom to be who I needed to be."

"So, it was better than you imagined?" I questioned, looking for clarification.

"By far. You were...well, perfect. The way you balanced the nurturing and the sexual aggression..." she trailed with a shiver of pleasure.

I chuckled, my shoulders relaxing from their tense position. "I just did what came naturally to me. It was like I instinctively reacted to your behavior. You bring out a side of me that I didn't know I had. Ever since I met you, it's been clawing to get out, and now that I've finally released it, I don't think there's any going back. Even when I had you over my lap, I was enthralled with the way I could manipulate your skin with barely any effort," I admitted.

She rolled her plump bottom lip back and forth between her teeth as she fiddled with the cap of her water bottle. "You realize I won't always be like that? I'm still the same opinionated, independent girl you first met, and that won't ever change," she told me worriedly.

I smirked, relieved that her worries were something that I could easily rid her of, and allowed a chuckle to escape. I let myself fall back against the mattress, resting my head against the pillows. I folded my arms behind my neck and stretched out my legs.

"Isa," I murmured, looking up at her with a smile. "I didn't do this, decide to be your Daddy, because you asked me to. I did it because I chose to. I made a conscious, educated decision to delve into a part of myself that has always been simmering beneath the surface. I wouldn't want you to be any other way than you are. Whether you're the little girl you were today or the confident woman I know you to be, I want you. To me, both of them are a part of a whole, and since I want all of you, I'm not going to complain. If anything, those things draw me closer. I'm like a moth to a flame."

Her lips twisted up into a grin, her dimples popping out and her dark eyes glinting. She leaned over me, her hair falling around us like a curtain, blocking out the world. "You know, I kind of like the sound of it. A little cliche and overused, but I get it, you pull me in too. It still feels so surreal that I actually managed to find a man who didn't run in the opposite direction when he found out about my desires. You've been so accepting and willing that it almost feels like a dream."

"Well, I'm happy to stay in this dream as long as we never wake up," I answered, grazing the tip of my nose against hers. Our lips met softly, our kisses lazy and filled with the knowledge that we had connected on a deeper level today.

I knew that there was a lot more for both of us to learn and discover about each other and ourselves, but I felt content to just take it day by day, step by step unveiling every little secret that we kept close to our hearts until there was nothing left to hide.

There was no pretense between us, no hidden agenda, and knowing that Isa wanted me for who I was made me feel light. She accepted me as readily as I had her, and while to some our relationship may not have seemed normal, I didn't give a fuck. So far, everything had come together nicely without any metaphorical bumps or potholes, and while I knew the honeymoon phase wouldn't last forever, as long as we laid our foundation right, we could be together for a long time.

I might not have been her first, and God knows if I would be her last, but I was the first person she had shared such a fundamental and intimate part of herself with, and that meant more to me than anything.

Maybe what we had wasn't love, and maybe we weren't perfect—together or apart—but we fit. She drew me out of my solitary shell, pouring life back into me where it had been lacking. I had laughed more in the time we had been together than I had in a long time. She made being human and fallible okay, as though it was expected in each of us to fail at some point, and I was starting to believe it.

She had weaved her way intricately into my life like the slipping of a needle through cloth, so effortless and unassuming that you could only watch it happen without any thought of prevention.

Instead of fear of the unknown that we faced ahead of us, I felt curiosity and wonder. I looked forward to every fight, every kiss, every instance in which I would see her. She consumed me, every part of her designed to tug me forward, and I was powerless to fight it...or maybe I just didn't want to.

**AN: Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: Will there be babies later on?**  
**A: Nope. Neither Isa or Edward want kids, and while accidents do happen, it probably won't happen in this particular fic.**

**Q:As they explore this daddy-kink, will they push their limits due to inexperience or fall into it so naturally they wish to join a group if like minded individuals?**

**A: Well, as you saw in this chapter, they slipped into it quite naturally, but that doesn't mean that they won't make mistakes further down the line. I haven't quite figured out all the kinks (get it, kinks! anyway) but I expect their relationship to expand to the point where they will go out in public settings as Daddy and his little Princess.**

**Q: Why were Jakes's jeans in the freezer?**  
**A: I have it under very good authority (i.e. I know guys who do it) that freezing your jeans cleans them without fading the fabric. That way you don't have to wash them and they don't stink.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 9**

**AN: Thanks to darcysmom and Starpower31 from PTB for beta'ing this for me. Thanks also for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter.**

**Just a head's up, things are getting a little sketchy here in Israel and a bomb dropped a little too close to where I live last night. So, updates may not be as timely as they have been in the past, and I'm going camping next weekend so there won't be a chapter then. Please, don't worry about me, but prayers are welcome.**

**Playlist:**

**Slow It Down by Amy Macdonald.**  
**Miss Me by Andy Grammer**  
**Last of the American Girls by Greenday.**

**...**

I leaned back slightly against the leather seat, my legs straddling my MV Agusta F4CC as I held a cigarette poised between my lips. It was a beautiful bike built for power and speed. It was every man's aphrodisiac wrapped in a magnesium frame and carbon bodywork with a 1078cc engine.

I blew out a plume of smoke from my pursed lips, glancing up at Isa's building, knowing that she would be appearing at any moment.

When Isa had first mentioned introducing me to her friends, I had been both parts reluctant and pleased. To know that we were at the point where I could be inserted into her life more intimately made an involuntary smile curl up on my lips, but the downside was that I would actually have to put myself in a situation where I would be forced to socialize.

I hated to think what would happen if they decided that they didn't like me, and while I knew Isa wasn't easily swayed by other's opinions, I also knew that her friends' words held weight when it came to decisions, especially when it came to boyfriends.

I, of course, had kept that thought to myself, not wanting to sound insecure, but somehow she knew without me saying where my reluctance stemmed from. She had addressed my inner worries, telling me that she would make sure they played nice, and that I should pick her up, dressed nicely, at seven.

The fateful meeting would be at Smoke, a jazz and supper club up on Broadway which featured live music and authentic American food. Ironically enough, it was a non-smoking club, making the name—from my point of view—seem a little redundant. We'd gotten tickets for the dinner show, and I knew that Isa was excited to go. Despite my reservations, I loved seeing her so happy.

My head shot up at the sound of the door slamming, and grinned at Isa as she jogged down the front steps. I dropped my cigarette on the sidewalk, grounding my heel on it to extinguish it before climbing off my bike to greet her properly.

My eyes followed what was now a familiar path as they traveled over her body, taking in her skin tight burgundy jeans that molded into her curves with a matching burgundy and pale brown blazer. Beneath her blazer, she wore a white t-shirt with 'Love' written in block capitals across the front, and a burgundy scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. She skipped over to me, flinging her arms around my waist as she crashed into my chest. If I wasn't expecting it, or used to her general exuberance, I was sure I would have lost my footing.

I chuckled, secretly enjoying her warmth as I inhaled her scent. With a simple hug she had done more to calm my slightly frazzled nerves than a cigarette could ever hope to accomplish. She was like my own brand of nicotine, but so much more healthier.

My hands sought out her ass, cradling the full ripe cheeks in my palms as I ducked my head down. She stood up tall on the tips of her toes, her arms rising to snake around my neck as she reached for me. Our lips molded together, slanting across each other as our heads tilted in opposite directions.

Her lips were soft and firm beneath mine, the warmth of them sinking through my skin, all the way to the bone. I would never tire of the feelings that coursed through me when we were like this. The peace that slithered straight down to my soul, and the longing that could only be tamed by her touch, almost overwhelming in their intensity.

We hummed in unison, the sound vibrating back and forth between us as we let our contentment whisk us away on feather laden wings.

I sucked her top lip softly into my mouth, flicking my tongue over it as my teeth nipped gently at the plump flesh. My eyes had fluttered shut at some point, the darkness swirling behind my closed lids soothing as my other senses heightened.

Her taste filled my mouth, the combination of sweet and spicy tingling against my taste buds. A sweet sigh escaped her in response, and she tried to pull herself higher up my body, her grasp on me tightening as she attempted to crush our mouths harder against one another.

I released her lip, darting my tongue forward as I sought permission for entrance, which she gave me without hesitation.

Our tongues tangled together, little pants and sighs escaping out of the corners of our mouths as they moved against each other. She pushed my unruly hair away from my forehead, the messy locks falling to the side as the heat of her fingers seared into my skin. She stroked the side of my face, grazing my stubbled cheek with her blunt nails. Our kiss softened slowly, retreating from a fiery passion to a more subdued one.

We parted breathlessly, our faces hovering inches apart as we tried to gain control of our breathing. We stood in front of her building, still completely wrapped up in each other. Our noses brushed against each other, rubbing up and down as my eyes fluttered open to meet hers.

She smiled widely at me, her dimples peeking out, and bit down on her bottom lip. "Hi," she said coyly, her voice low and husky. It was almost as though we were dancing in the fading twilight, her arms wrapped around my neck as she swayed gently against me, coaxing my body to join. My hands slipped up over her supple hips, grasping them gently as I returned her smile.

"Hello," I responded, leaning down to place a gentle, chaste kiss on her lips. Her lids fluttered in response, her lashes casting shadows against her cheeks. I sighed, knowing that we had to leave but reluctant to end the moment we were sharing.

She nuzzled my throat, the sigh that escaped her parted lips fanning hot air over my neck.

"We should get going," I murmured. She hummed noncommittally, twisting her fingers through the soft hair at the back of my neck.

"Or we could stay here," I added when neither of us made a move to detangle ourselves.

"I like the sound of the second option," she muttered.

"As nice as that would be, I'm not explaining to your friends why we decided to bail on them."

She sighed. "You're right. I'd never hear the end of it."

I almost protested when she pulled back, silently cursing my big mouth until I saw the overnight bag thrown over her shoulder that I had missed previously. I had asked her to stay over at my place for the night, and she had agreed as long as she could find someone to look after Minion for the weekend.

"You staying over at mine?"

"Yep," she confirmed, and we stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, silently communicating the implications of that. My tongue swiped over my bottom lip, and her eyes followed the movement as she bit down on her own,

It had been a long week and a half, and I craved the feel of her body and the touch of her hands against my naked skin. Isa had bailed on me on our last date night, having gone down to visit her parents for the weekend. It was Wednesday now, and I couldn't wait to get her alone.

The tension that we had only just diffused roared back to life, and I swallowed tightly before clearing my throat.

"We should go," I said roughly.

She nodded in agreement, her eyes moving away from mine to glance behind me. A smile bloomed on her lips, and a mischievous glint appeared in her eye as she caught sight of my bike.

"So, this is your baby?" she questioned, passing by me to glide her fingers over the body of my bike. My cock twitched as she strutted around it, her low-heeled boots clicking against the sidewalk and her hips swaying enticingly.

Isa had been excited to know that I was planning on taking my bike out for a spin tonight, and I unstrapped the helmet that I'd bought for her from the back of the bike and held it out to her.

"Yes, now get on. I've been looking forward to feeling you pressed up against me all week."

I stowed her bag away before throwing my leg over my bike, situating myself comfortably as I pulled on my helmet.

She laughed softly, pulling on her own helmet and sliding on the bike behind me. She wiggled up close, shimmying her hips as she wrapped her arms tightly around me.

There are many variations of the word freedom and what it means, but straddling the bike, my thighs clenching around the seat, and Isa's body pressed flush to my back as I pulled away from the sidewalk and into the traffic, gave it a new meaning.

The engine hummed beneath us, the vibrations of it running through my body like an electric charge. The roar of the engine mingled with the distant noise of horns and evening traffic, the canopy of sound muffled by my helmet.

I felt the grip of her arms tighten around my waist as I weaved the bike effortlessly between cars, our bodies leaning and tilting with it, the world a dark, tinted blur behind the visor of our helmet. Lights flashed and flickered as we sped past, pedestrians enjoying the nightlife as they hung around outside clubs, waiting for their turn to get in.

New York City at night was like a whole different world than at daytime. Watching it awaken, stretching out its limbs and opening its eyes was an experience that everyone should have. It was almost like a modern day fairy tale taking place in front of your eyes.

I could feel the harshness of the wind that came with the speed we were traveling at trying to burrow its way beneath my jacket, my body shielding Isa from most of it.

I ended up parking a few blocks away, chuckling as I helped an unsteady Isa off the bike. She stumbled forward, tugging the helmet off her head and gave me a winning smile. Her eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement as I grasped her by the waist, pulling her into my chest.

"Fuck, we have to do that again!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with giddiness.

I laughed. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said with amusement, entwining our hands as I grabbed her bag and pulled her down the street.

"I think 'enjoyed' is a bit of an understatement," she scoffed. "I could have gone without the helmet hair though."

"It's not that bad," I placated her.

"That's easy for you to say. You look like you just rolled out of bed after a good fuck. I, on the other hand, look like I had a rather unfortunate encounter with an electric socket."

She combed her fingers through her hair, attempting to calm the wayward strands before giving up and twisting it together to make a loose side braid.

"Did you have a good day?" I asked conversationally as she tugged at her hair.

"I did, actually. Practice wasn't till late so I slept in, which was nice since I won't be able to that next week when I start work."

"You work?" I asked, surprised, wracking my brain to see if she had mentioned that little tidbit in a previous conversation.

"I swear I mentioned that," she commented, scrunching up her nose in thought. "I volunteer for Music Matters in the off season. It's a charity that brings music to public schools. It helps keep kids off the streets and teaches them different instruments. I want others to have a taste of what I was able to have when I was young."

"That's amazing." I couldn't help but be in awe of her selflessness. Most people would love to spend their days not doing anything, but Isa, even with the means to do nothing for the rest of her life, was out working and helping others.

She blushed and waved me away bashfully with an elegant flick of her wrist. "It isn't much in the grand scheme of things, but I'd rather spend a few hours a day filing papers than sitting at home doing nothing to change the state of this country. It doesn't take much to make a difference, and if that means I have to be a glorified secretary then so be it."

I tugged her closer to me, releasing her hand and wrapping my arm around her svelte waist. I leaned down, grazing my lips along the curve of her ear. "I'm really proud of you," I murmured.

She shivered, peeking up at me from under her eyelashes as she smiled softly. "That means a lot to me." She didn't elaborate, nor did she need to. Our words hung above us, entwining and twisting together as the silence slipped around us, each of us content to bask in the presence of the other. Sometimes, it was in the quiet that the most profound truths were born and discovered.

We arrived at Smoke and gave our tickets before being ushered inside, the live jazz already in full swing in the dimly lit room. It was designed with an authentic American flare that gave you a glimpse into the past.

We headed toward the table where all of Isa's friends were sitting, and instead of feeling tense and nervous, I found myself calm and collected. A wave of confidence washed over me as I reminded myself of whom I was and my importance in Isa's life.

"I feel like I should apologize in advance for anything they say or do," Isa mumbled quickly just before we got in earshot.

"Hey, guys!" Isa called out, threading her arm through mine and grasping my hand.

"We thought you weren't going to show, Iz," a guy with a lazy grin and longish blond hair said.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not even late," Isa retorted with an eyeroll and a grin as we sat down in the last two remaining seats, side by side. "Anyway, I want you guys to meet Edward, my boyfriend. Play nice with him, he isn't used to your general craziness."

"Hey, I feel like I should take offense," a dark haired girl with shoulder length raven curls and a thick British accent protested in mock indignation.

"Be my guest," Isa quipped before leaning into me. "That's Alice, columnist for the New York Times and serial monogamist."

"According to my therapist," Alice interjected good humoredly. "But then she wants to see me five times a week, and we start to wonder who really has the problem."

I couldn't help but chuckle, secretly wondering if she was joking or not.

"Next to her are Jasper and Peter, our resident gay couple."

They gave a little wave, the blond, Jasper, the same guy who had teased Isa about our tardiness. Peter was a darker blonde—almost brunette—who seemed enthralled with his phone.

"Don't mind Peter, he's an investment banker up on the Street and is surgically glued to his phone," she told me, earning a middle finger from Peter.

"Over there are Emily and Sam." Isa pointed to a brunette couple who seemed slightly older and looked as though they'd stepped off the front page of a magazine. They barely seemed to notice our presence as they snuggled closely, heads bent together.

"Emily is an ex-model and Sam is a shrink. They are engaged and a little nauseating to watch. Just saying."

"And last but not least, we have Charlotte, the anti-social bookworm."

Charlotte peeked up from behind her Kindle, long auburn ringlets falling in her face and stylish glasses perched on her nose. She pulled a face at Isa and tucked her Kindle away in her bag.

"It isn't as though I can write my first bestseller surrounded by people," she argued. "It's only for the sake of propriety and a deep seated loyalty that I go out with you guys when you constantly insult me. Plus, my introduction is aspiring writer, not anti-social bookworm."

Isa waved her off and grabbed a menu off the table. "Whatever. We both know that given the chance you'd be curled up with a book at home. Now, I'm thinking popcorn shrimp and a tomato and mozzarella salad to start. That good for you, babe?"

I nodded, laying my arm over the back of her chair as I peered over her shoulder at the menu. "Yeah, that's fine."

"So, Edward," Jasper started once we'd ordered our appetizers and drinks. "Who wears the pants in your relationship?"

It was obviously a trick question, and I gave Isa a questioning glance. She shrugged and grinned at me, silently telling me that I was on my own with this.

"Umm, I guess I would say that Isa wears the pants in our relationship, but she lets me borrow them sometimes on the weekend," I said, deadpan written across my face.

"I think you'll fit in just fine then," he said with an appreciative nod.

Isa laughed and reached up to plant a kiss on my cheek. "Good answer, baby. You just passed Jasper's test. He likes to ask all the guys I date that question, but I must say that out of all of them, I liked your answer best."

"Well, I aim to please," I answered, unable to keep the amusement out of my tone.

"Oh, I bet you do," Alice quipped with a knowing grin. I quirked an eyebrow at Isa, wondering just what she had told Alice about our more intimate exploits. Isa blushed, biting her lip in an attempt to hide the grin that was threatening to curve up on her lips.

"So, Iz tells me you're an artist, Edward," Charlotte cut in, drawing my gaze away from Isa.

"Yes, I am," I confirmed.

"If writing hadn't been my calling, I'd like to think that I would have become an artist myself," she confided with a soft smile, causing Alice to snort.

"Oh, please, Char, the only thing you can draw is a bath."

"Hey," Isa interjected. "I'm sure there were bubbles and scented candles."

Isa and Alice started crackling with laughter, while Charlotte pouted. "You guys suck big time."

"Oh, we're just kidding, Char. I'm sure your inner Picasso is just hiding inside you somewhere waiting to come out," Isa said between giggles, reaching across the table to pat her hand.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "You know, I could point out your less attractive attributes, especially with your boyfriend here."

That sobered her quick. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" she challenged with a triumphant smirk.

I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning back in my seat as I watched them glare into each other's eyes, silently sparring. "You know, you've got me all curious now," I said with a grin.

"Tell him about the summer you turned into a hippy," Jasper suggested, joining in the conversation.

"I hate you guys," Isa whined, burrowing her face in my shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll tell it," Charlotte said gleefully. "It was sophomore year in college, and we decided to head to the Caribbean for the summer. At that point, it was only Jasper, me, and Iz. So, anyway, Iz was obsessed with reggae at the time and decided to become a hippy. I'm sure I have pictures somewhere of Iz with her dreadlocks and tie dye shirts."

I practically choked on my drink as I stared at Charlotte. "You're joking," I said in disbelief, trying to imagine Isa with dreadlocks.

"Oh, no, our Iz was a wild one," Jasper added. "She was all about recycling, protesting for animal rights and saving the world. I think she even stopped showering at one point. If it wasn't for the dean pulling her aside and hinting that her place as first cello was in danger of being given to the second cellist, I'm sure she would have eventually been kicked out of school and joined Greenpeace to save the whales."

"Hey, I'll have you know that whales are becoming endangered with the way the poachers are going after them," Isa argued. "And going green is very important. I just knew I couldn't give up my music for the cause."

I laughed, the sound deep in the back of my throat as I tried to imagine Isa with dreadlocks.

"It wasn't funny," Isa protested.

"Yeah, it really wasn't. You looked homeless for a while back then," Charlotte quipped.

"What were you like in college, Edward?" Alice asked, steering the conversation away from Isa.

"I was a bit of a pretentious asshole. I was the epitome of a sensitive artist who was convinced that no one understood me or my art. I also had a baby face, which meant I looked like a seventeen year old going through puberty. It wasn't the best combination, but once I got taken down a few pegs and grew a beard, I had a great time."

Isa idly wound a hand through my hair, using it as leverage to tug my head down. "I can't imagine you as a pretentious asshole," she mused, nuzzling her face against my stubbled cheek.

"That's a good thing, I assure you," I told her, dipping my head down to kiss her. It was a slow, measured kiss that we kept relatively chaste since we had an audience.

"What are you guys talking about?" Sam asked, emerging from the bubble he had been wrapped up in.

"We were reminiscing about our college days until those two started sucking face," Charlotte answered.

"God," Alice complained. "I'm only twenty-four. I shouldn't be old enough to reminisce about anything other than my fading childhood."

"Alice, honey, your childhood faded a long time ago," Isa told her, pulling away from me.

"Hey, denial keeps me young," she retorted.

"Alright then," Sam muttered, turning his attention back to his fiancee whose name had slipped my mind.

"Girls, girls, calm down. You're both pretty," Peter, who up until now had been quiet, drawled. His phone was suspiciously absent as he watched Isa and Alice with amusement. "Now, kiss and make up."

"Oh, bite me," Alice griped.

"Darling, I don't swing that way," he shot back, a smug smile in his face as he turned his attention toward me. "How did you and Iz meet anyway? I don't believe she mentioned it."

"Oh, he stalked me," Isa supplied nonchalantly.

"I did not," I protested indignantly.

"Fine, you followed me."

"Way to make me sound creepy. What actually happened was that I saw her across the street and thought she was damn beautiful, and yes, you could say I followed her, but only into a coffee shop across the street. I introduced myself, and she asked me if I was a serial killer—"

"And he told me that he wanted to keep his options open," Isa interrupted. "So, I let him sit with me and buy me a milkshake, and we talked for a few hours before I had to go to practice—"

"Don't forget the part where you wrote your number on my arm and stole my pen, which, by the way, you never gave back."

"Well, generally when you steal something it isn't with the intent to give it back. That is referred to as borrowing, but I'm feeling generous and once I find it we can begin negotiations."

"You lost it?" I asked incredulously.

"It wasn't exactly big!"

"They're cute, even when they're bickering," Charlotte whispered obnoxiously loud.

"Did she just refer to us as cute?" Isa asked.

"I think so."

"I'm sorry I lost your pen."

"Don't be. It was only a Sharpie."

"I think we just witnessed their first fight," Charlotte commented.

"You know, Charlotte, I remember you having quite the crush on a certain somebody. What was his name again? I swear it started with an E," Isa said, her eyes wide with false innocence.

"Oh my God, shut up!" she hissed, making Isa smirk wickedly.

"You're no fun."

The conversation around the table tapered off after that as our meals were brought over.

I'd chosen a charred cedar plank steak with pinot noir shallots, onion rings, and french fries, while Isa had ordered a seared salmon filet with littleneck clams, chorizo, lemon, and a white wine parsley broth.

My earlier worries seemed completely irrelevant now. Isa's friends, while a little crazy, were great people. Most of them came from well off families and were "trust fund babies" as they liked to put it, but they were all down to earth and genuinely nice.

We polished off dinner with s'mores brownies and New York Cheesecake, and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere and great music until the dinner show finished. We reluctantly said our goodbyes and went our separate ways with promises to meet up again soon.

Isa was giggly as we walked the few blocks to where I had parked my bike, the wine she had imbibed going straight to her head. I only hoped that the fresh air did her some good because I had plans for her once we got back to mine, and I preferred for her to be sober.

The ride back must have been exactly what she needed, because she was more clear headed by the time I pulled into the building's garage and eager to follow me upstairs to my apartment. Nervous energy zipped through me as I unlocked the front door and opened it wide for Isa to step inside. I flicked on the main lights, illuminating my apartment as I stood back and watched her.

The apartment was still, the only sound the clicking of Isa's heels as she walked across the linoleum floor. She left my side, strolling down the hall and into the living room with ease, acting as though she had done it a thousand times. She twirled around, her eyes jumping from one thing to another as she took everything in.

The lighting was low, casting shadows across her face as she stood against the backdrop of the city visible through the floor to ceiling window. The moonlight shone in through it, bathing the room in a luminous glow as she glided her fingers over the lid of the baby grand piano in the corner.

"Do you play?" she questioned, glancing over at me. I raked a hand through my hair, dumping my keys in the bowl by the door before sauntering in her direction, no longer content to just watch her explore.

I shook my head. "No, it was my mother's piano. Carlisle plays sometimes , but I never had the patience to learn it myself."

She hummed, turning her attention toward the bookcase in the room. Her eyes sparked with intrigue as she read the titles of the books, dragging her fingers across the spines, feeling the different textures of the leather and the paperbacks.

"You have an interesting collection. Very diverse," she commented, her tone slightly distracted as I came up behind her, nuzzling the curve of her throat. She twisted around to face me, tilting her face up to look at me as I took a step forward, forcing her back against the bookcase she had but moments ago been looking over.

I placed one hand by her head and tucked a finger from my other hand through the belt loop of her jeans, coaxing her hips forward. Her eyes darted around before settling back on mine, sensing that she was cornered with no escape in sight. Her tongue darted out, the tip moistening her lips as she swallowed, her breathing turning shallow as I advanced on her.

I ducked my head down, inching my face toward hers slowly, my eyes jumping between her plump lips and her dark, captivating eyes. I stopped a hairbreadth away, feeling her warm breath wash over my skin as I cocked my head to the side, ghosting my lips along her jaw before placing a light kiss at the corner of her mouth.

She released a drawn out breath, her lips parting slightly in response to my soft touch. She turned her face toward me, our lips grazing against each other until they finally molded fully together.

Her hands wound in my hair, gripping fistfuls as I pushed her upper half harder against the bookcase. She arched against it, whimpering quietly against my lips as I kissed her with slow deliberateness.

I slipped a leg between hers and pushed it up high until I could feel the heat of her pussy beneath the fabric of her jeans and my own. She moaned softly, rocking her hips forward against my leg as I devoured her mouth with the finesse of a man with a diabolical plan in mind.

My hands refused to stay anchored in one place, her fleshy hips quickly replaced by the full ripeness of her ass before they burrowed their way under the back of her t-shirt. They spread out, one hand above the other as my fingers splayed across her skin.

We kissed until we were breathless, our lips wet and swollen as they parted. A heady feeling of triumph and possessiveness welled up inside me as I took in her flushed cheeks and drooping lids. Her eyes were dark and swirling with passion as she stared into my own, daring, challenging me to continue.

Her hands released my hair, caressing my neck and shoulders as they traveled down my chest until they reached my waist. I swallowed, unable to look away from her gaze as she reached for the hem of her t-shirt, pushing off the bookcase slightly as she whipped it over her head with the type of grace I could only ever dream of achieving. Not needing any more incentive, I crashed my lips to hers, the need churning in my gut discernible in the frantic way my lips claimed hers.

She moaned wantonly as I slammed her back against the bookshelf, my hands working their way between us as she hitched her thigh higher up my leg, curling it around my hip. She rolled her hips forward, grinding her pussy against my thigh. I cupped her breasts in my hands, loving the feel of their weight as they spilled through my fingers, my hands not large enough to contain them fully.

I palmed and fondled them over her bra, the soft lace a poor substitute for her skin. Isa giggled against my mouth as I fumbled with the clasp, my impatience causing me to growl when it refused to budge. She reached back around, batting my hand away before deftly flicking it open without so much as a blink of effort.

I tugged the straps down her arms, my mouth drifting down her body to lave the rest of her with attention. I nipped, kissed, and licked my way down to her breasts, wrapping my arms around her waist as I pulled her up high enough for her to wrap her legs around my waist. I grunted at the sudden shift in weight, cupping both cheeks of her ass in my hands to help balance her.

My lips wrapped around the taut bud of her nipple, my tongue swirling and circling it as it continued to swell. The cry that left her lips was desperate and needy, her body writhing in pleasure as she dug her nails into my shoulders. Her hips bucked, attempting to gain friction as she rubbed against my belt buckle.

She gasped loudly as my teeth grazed the sensitive bud, clamping it gently between my teeth as I tugged it, letting her feel the dual sensation of pain and pleasure. I laved my tongue over it afterward to dispel any lingering irritation, rolling her nipple back and forth between my lips. Her hands flew up behind her, grasping onto a shelf of the bookcase to gain leverage.

I switched breasts, repeating the same actions as I had on the first while freeing one hand to tug and twist the neglected nipple. Her chest heaved, her breaths coming out in pants as her thighs squeezed my waist, reflexively tightening every time I did something she particularly liked. In the three years of my celibacy, I had forgotten the joy that came with exploring a woman's body in an effort to find out how it ticked, and I relished each whimper, moan and sigh as I carefully lowered us both to the ground, laying her out beneath me on the rug.

I found out that she was ticklish on the underside of her breasts, and that she squirmed when I dipped my tongue into her navel. There was a spot at the base of her throat that drove her crazy when I sucked and nipped it, but lingering too long on that particular spot irritated her. I worshipped her body, caressing every inch I could attach my mouth to as our clothes were slowly discarded. Her pussy wept, arousal spilling from her as the fragrance of sex hovered in the air.

I licked my lips, wetting them with saliva as I slipped my hand between her legs, feeling the heat emanating from her skin. I groaned as my hand came in contact with her, her swollen slick skin almost too much for me to handle. My cock twitched against my stomach and pre cum dribbled freely from the slit at the tip as I spread her folds.

I leaned the rest of my body forward to hover over her as I dipped my head down to speak directly into her ear. "Show me," I whispered, slowly stroking her, collecting wetness.

Her body shuddered at my words, and she spread her legs wider as her hand joined my own. Though I knew I could get her off without her help—I had done so before—I wanted to know how much pressure she liked in certain areas, if she preferred attention to be directed more heavily toward her clit or inside her. There were no two women the same, and while any man could get a girl off, it took skill and knowledge to possess the power to make her desperate and unhinged with a few well aimed swipes of your fingers.

"Circle my clit," she murmured, rocking her hips against my hand as I rubbed tight circles around her clit, my eyes never leaving her face as it contorted in pleasure. She groaned, a light sheen of sweat forming on her body as she manipulated my hand, guiding it in the way she needed.

"Now, lower. Not too fast," she instructed as I shifted my hand down to her entrance. "Just one finger. Tease me."

I obeyed, slowly easing one finger inside and thrusting it in and out of her at a pace too slow to gain any real friction. She squirmed, wiggling and shifting closer as she whimpered, a gush of arousal leaving her. "Another finger," she gasped out breathlessly. I added another, surprised when she stopped me from thrust deep inside of her.

"No, shallow," she demanded. I curled and twisted my fingers, searching for the little spongy patch. Her hips rocketed off the rug when I found it, her grip on my hand faltering as she lost herself in the wave of pleasure that washed over her. I massaged the spot, enthralled with her reactions as she became completely uninhibited.

She fisted the rug on either side of her, her body writhing and arching, her face the picture of tortured bliss. "Stop," she panted, the words coming out in a reluctant groan.

My brows furrowed in confusion, and I withdrew my hand, wondering what was wrong.

"I want to come with you inside me."

Her words were my undoing, and I barely gave a thought to what I was doing as I easily manhandled her body, turning her over to lie on her stomach.

I reached for my pants, thankful that I'd had the sense to stock my wallet with condoms since meeting Isa. My teeth ripped through the foil easily, and I rolled it down the length of my swollen cock as Isa pulled herself up onto her knees. Her legs automatically spread as her upper half dipped low, her weight resting on her elbows.

My knees slipped between her thighs, forcing them further apart as I grasped my swollen cock, giving it a few strokes before guiding it toward her pussy. I shifted my body forward, planting open-mouthed kisses along the length of her spine, following the curves of her tattoos, and brushing her hair to the side for better access. I dragged the head of my cock between her folds, practically delirious with desire as I coated it with her juices.

"Please," she begged, her hips bucking backward.

I covered her body with mine, my grip tight on her fleshy hip and my nails digging into her skin as the tip pressed up against her entrance. I flexed my hips forward slightly, feeling the walls of her pussy give way around me as the bulbous tip of my cock slipped into her body.

Our breathing was ragged, and I could feel the way her body quivered from anticipation. I kissed along the bridge of her shoulder and eased another inch of my cock inside her before stopping. My grip on her hip was the only thing stopping her from impaling herself on me, but I was determined to do this my way.

"Edward," she whined, wiggling and shimmying her hips impatiently.

I let out a strained chuckle and raised myself up above her, sliding in a little further. Her muscles fluttered and clenched around me, welcoming my arrival.

"I want you to feel, no appreciate, every inch of my cock as it fills you," I rasped, pushing in further. "Can you feel it stretching you, opening you up to fit around my cock? So fucking tight, baby."

A groan escaped me, and my hands trembled with the amount of restraint I was exerting in an effort to stop myself from slamming into her. I reveled in the feel of her around me as I pulled her hips back at the same time as I thrust forward, pushing the last few inches in until I was buried to the hilt.

A gasp flew from her lips before turning into a low keen. Her pussy squeezed my hard as fucking steel cock tightly as her arousal dripped down onto me. I pulled back until only the tip was inside her before slamming forward to fill her once again.

She moaned, rocking back to meet my thrusts, the grip I had on her hip helping to guide us into a fast rhythm. Once our movements became synced, the push of hers meeting the pull of mine, I was really able to let go, pistoning in and out of her as our skin slapped together. It was rough, the pace I had chosen, but she gave as good as she got, able to take what I gave her and more.

I changed my position, spreading her thighs wider with one knee as I pressed a hand to the base of her neck, forcing her body down further into the rug. I was sure we'd both have rugburn on our knees by the time this was over, but I couldn't quite bring myself to care. My hips swiveled and twisted, grinding against her ass and changing the angle of my thrusts. The thick scent of sex infiltrated my senses, intoxicating my mind.

Her thighs tensed, the muscles tightening as I reached down between us to rub her clit. She mewled, her walls clamping down around me in reaction to my touch, and flexed her hips against my hand before retreating to greet my next thrust. I could feel her constricting around me as she got closer to her release, and she became more vocal, her moans and keens rising. I coaxed her body closer and closer to the edge, fueling her pleasure to the point that she was practically incoherent.

A groan tore its way through my throat as she clamped down around me, her pussy attempting to milk me as it pulled me in deeper.

"Oh God, oh fuck!" she chanted as shudders rolled down her spine, her sweat slick skin glistening in the moonlight. She arched, throwing her head back in ecstasy as her stomach scraped against the rug.

"That's it," I grunted. "Come for me."

My pace never faltered, prolonging her orgasm until she lay spent beneath me. I pulled out, my cock dripping with her arousal, and rolled her over. Her movements were slow and unsteady as she reached for me, pulling my face down to meet hers. I hitched her thighs over my hips, resting my weight on one elbow as I guided myself back into her. She whimpered against my lips, her arms snaking around my back from under my arms and digging into my shoulders.

My pace was slower, my hands clutching her tight against me as I moved within her. Our mouths caressed each other, molding and massaging until we ran out of breath. Her feet dug into my ass as she let her head fall back, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips parting as she absorbed the pleasure I was giving her.

My cock throbbed and my balls tightened, threatening to explode from the tight, wet pressure of her pussy. The atmosphere around us was humming, electric currents crackling in the air as we fused our bodies together. We weren't fucking anymore, the slow ebb and flow of our bodies communicating something deeper than just a physical connection.

My breathing was heavy and loud in my own ears, my beating heart pumping out blood at an erratic speed, setting a fast pulse in my veins. Heat coiled in my gut, surging down to my balls as my hips faltered and a strangled groan escaped me. Isa's hands stroked through my hair, murmuring encouraging words as I released all the tension in my body. My hips jerked erratically as I came, pulsing my seed into the condom.

I barely avoided collapsing on top of her as my limbs shook, threatening to give out in the wake of my orgasm, the pleasure still swimming through my mind as I buried my face in her neck. We were both hot and slick with sweat, yet I couldn't bring myself to untangle my body from hers. She was just as reluctant as me to part, her legs still wrapped tightly around my waist, and her hands calmly stroking my hair.

I tried to catch my breath, my chest heaving as I gulped down lungfuls of air. I could feel myself softening inside of her, and I took that as my cue to pull out, rolling off her body to lie beside her. I rolled my shoulders, feeling the delicious ache from using long forgotten muscles in my hips and thighs.

Neither of us spoke, enjoying the bliss of the moment until it become uncomfortable for me to lie there with a used condom on.

"Shower?" I suggested, still breathless.

"Is that code for round two?" she asked, humor evident in her tone.

"Depends on whether you're sore or not."

She laughed. "I think I can handle it," she said with sass, making no attempt to hide her naked body as she stood up. I noticed for the first time that she had a dimple on her left ass cheek, and I noted in my mind to remember to investigate that further.

Her hips swayed with each step, her confidence in her nude body beyond sexy. I had lost count of the times my girlfriends in the past had immediately shied away, self conscious about me looking at their bodies that my hands and mouth had not long ago explored. They sometimes went so far as to be embarrassed by my lack of modesty in being naked.

I'd already told Isa about being a closet nudist, but I had left out the part about the exhibitionist streak which I hadn't really delved into.

I followed after her, discarding the condom in the trash on the way. We had round two in the shower with Isa pressed into the tiled wall, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist. Afterward, we pulled on some underwear and fell exhausted into bed. We both lay splayed out, her on her stomach and me on my back. This time, it was her arm slung loosely over my stomach keeping us connected as we snuggled down beneath the sheets, and I placed a kiss on her shoulder before letting myself drift to sleep.

**AN: Leave me some love, and don't be scared to come around the facebook group, I'm there quite often posting pictures and asking opinions.**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: As this progresses, will they want to live together making it a 24/7 type of**  
**play? **  
**A: That is a question I cannot answer just yet. I will tell you that as the story moves along, the play will expand and become a more focal part of their relationship.**

**Q: Will Isa meet Carlisle soon?**  
**A: Hopefully, but not for a few chapters yet.**

**Q: Will Edward paint Isa?**  
**A: Yes, but I'm, not sure when.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 10**

**AN: Thanks to darcysmom and Sweetishbubble from PTB for beta'ing this chapter for me, and thanks to all of you who read and review!**

Important! Because of the holidays and the fact that my sister is getting married in a month and I gave to plan not one, but two bachelorette parties, weekly updates are postponed till the new year. I'm sorry, but I'll be on my Facebook (Isabelle Kinza) and in my group (A Pale Fire) if you want to talk or see pics and teasers.

Reminder: This is legal, consensual, and kinky...read on.

Playlist:

Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford and Sons  
Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars  
Little Talks by Monsters and Men

I hummed a tune to myself as I flipped over a slice of French toast in the pan, listening to it sizzle as my gaze wandered over to Isa. She was sat at the breakfast bar, dressed in my t-shirt from the night before, knee-high socks, and her glasses.

I smiled to myself as she rolled her bottom lip in her mouth and brushed a few stray strands from her messy bun out of her face. Her slender legs were exposed and swung back and forth gently, the tips of her socked feet brushing against the floor. She was bent over her Mac, one arm propped up on the tabletop and the other tearing pieces of her French toast apart before popping them into her mouth.

Minion lay by her feet, her eyes trained on her master, hoping to get a few scraps. Minion had warmed up to me somewhat, my continual presence making her more friendly toward me. I swear she almost wagged her tail when I had come over last night.

Isa hummed around a mouthful of French toast, and her tongue darted out to lick any excess sugar and cinnamon from her plush lips. I couldn't help but feel elated about how receptive she had been to my cooking. A part of me having wanted to show her that I wasn't completely inept in the kitchen.

Isa had been a little wary when I first offered to make her breakfast, having taken my past words about my lack of cooking skills to heart, and while I had only been exaggerating marginally about barely being able to work a microwave, breakfast food was the exception. I wanted to contribute a little because she had done so much cooking for me, and since it was the only thing I could cook well, my French toast was legendary amongst my friends and family.  
I was happy, still riding the high of the week and loving the fact that this was the second time this week that we had spent the night together.

She'd had to leave early in the morning on Thursday to get Minion from her neighbors. I had let her leave after a few sleepy kisses and a promise to call me later on in the day before falling back into a deep sleep.

What with Isa having gone down to Brooklyn to visit her parents last weekend, causing us to miss our usual date night, we'd both been happy to resume our normal routine.

We'd slept in late this morning, staying in bed talking and making out like teenagers before our stomachs decided to protest in hunger. I'd thrown a pair of jeans on over my boxers before stumbling into the bathroom to take care of my business only to come back and find that Isa had pilfered my t-shirt—though I had to admit looked better on her than it did on me. I'd pulled on my black and red plaid button down, rolling the sleeves up my forearms and leaving the top three buttons undone.

I plated the last two slices of French toast and sprinkled some cinnamon and sugar on top of them before turning off the stove and moving to join Isa at the breakfast bar.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, pulling out the stool beside her and sitting down. I almost choked on my food when I caught a glimpse of the video Isa was watching. Even without sound, the images of a naked woman bent over a man's legs while he spanked her was arousing.

The woman lacked Isa's fuller curves, but it was easy for me to imagine Isa in her place, wriggling and squirming as she half-heartedly tried to escape my grasp

It was an amateur type of video—obviously made by the couple in the video—and the camera was strategically placed so that their faces weren't visible. The thought of recording something like that with Isa and posting it made my cock twitch and my possessive side growl. Part of me wanted to the world to see just how sexy my girlfriend was, but the other part, selfishly, wanted to keep her all to myself. It didn't help that the exhibitionist in me wanted a chance to shine.

"Are you telling me that while I've been making breakfast, you've been looking at porn?"

"I'm researching," she corrected.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

She rolled her eyes, ignoring my humor. "I found this couple's blog, and they're into the same kind of things we are. They mostly focus on the spanking aspect of the dynamic though, and she doesn't call him 'Daddy,' but it's kind of how I picture us to be. They post pictures and videos of their exploits on their blog, but they're totally anonymous. I found it intriguing how they balance all the aspects of their relationship and the way that spanking brings them intimacy."  
I hummed in agreement, watching the way that even as his hand came down repeatedly on her ass, his other hand was entwined with hers, both keeping it from attempting to protect her ass from the spanking and reminding her who he was in all facets of her life.

I glanced over at Isa to check her reaction to the video, noticing a subtle wistfulness that shined in her eyes as her teeth gnawed at the corner of her lip. It was a want and a need that she wasn't quite ready to vocalize freely. It burned like a candle, flickering yet steady as it kindled brighter with each passing moment.

We hadn't played since the first time two weeks ago, and I realized that I had been looking for cues in Isa, wanting her to lead. But looking at her now, I saw that she was waiting for me to take charge, to coax her into it. My role was supposed to be dominant, yet I had expected her to top from the bottom. It was something that I hoped to rectify immediately. I wanted to push her limits, and my mind shifted through my options until I found the one I needed.

Last time, we had both been tentative, unsure as to what we would find in letting ourselves go, but with the knowledge and assurance granted from our first scene, I wanted more, and so did she. She had told me that she wanted to be owned by the will of a man, that she wanted to be possessed, and I knew that by pushing her limits I would be giving her what she longed for.

We had talked about limits, the kind that we unsure about and the kind that we never wanted to push, and I would always respect them. Maybe, we weren't at the point where we could vocalize our need, but I hoped that with time it would get easier.

My stool scraped across the tiled floor as I pushed it backward, stuffing the last of my breakfast into my mouth as I stood up, moving over to sink to dump my plate there.

I strolled back over to Isa, my hands trailing over the soft skin of her arms. She shivered slightly as I stepped closer, pressing my front against her back. The tips of my fingers danced over her wrists, momentarily circling them before descending down to her waist. She gave a shriek of surprise as I lifted her up off her seat and slid onto the stool beneath her, settling her down on my lap.

"Edward, what are you doing?" she asked, a laugh in her voice as she removed her glasses and lay them on the tabletop. I nuzzled the side of her throat, snaking my arms around her waist, dipping my hands beneath the t-shirt that she was wearing. She squirmed as I dragged my hands up her thighs and past her bare hips—it seemed my naughty little girl had forgotten to wear some panties—before moving inward to her stomach. I caressed it gently, hearing her breath stutter as I kissed the bare skin of her shoulder peeking out of the neckline of the t-shirt.

"Do I need a reason to want to hold my girl?" I asked, deflecting her earlier question.

"No." Her voice sounded unsure, as though her answer should have been a question rather than an answer. I started humming low, my chin resting on her shoulder as the haunting lullaby escaped my lips. My hands danced over her stomach almost absently, feeling the tension coil in her muscles as she instinctively fought against the onslaught of emotion that I was purposefully creating in her by activating her triggers.

"Just relax...let go," I urged her softly. She let out a low, almost inaudible whine as she arched, wriggling around in my lap, her discomfort apparent. I knew it was still difficult for her to completely release the hold she had on her control, on her independence, but I knew, in time, it would get easier. Her hands clenched into fists, flexing as she tried to regulate her erratic breathing, while weakly struggling against me. My arms caged her in, refusing to let her escape until a shuddering breath flew from her lips and her shoulders slumped in defeat, all the fight gone out of her.

I could tell that she was still struggling internally, the conflict in her eyes showing me the push and pull of her desires as they tugged her in opposite directions. She craved what I was offering, wanted it desperately, but her mind, while her greatest ally was also her hardest adversary. I needed to coax her out of her mind and into the space where she was solely mine; mine to command and to mold how I saw fit.

"That's a good girl. Daddy's got you. He's right here." My voice came out in a soft croon, and it helped settle her.

I slipped an arm beneath her legs lifting them as I turned her in my lap so that she sat with her legs across my lap. She peeked up at me from under her long lashes, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbling on it.

I moved my other arm to cradle her closer, rocking her gently in my lap. She snuggled closer, pressing her face into my chest as her hand fisted the material of my shirt tightly, clinging to me like she never wanted to let go. I could feel the heat of her breath through the material as she inhaled deeply, breathing in my scent.

I could see the tension slowly slipping away, and she relaxed, allowing her mind to give her what she needed. Her thumb found its way to her mouth and she sucked softly, almost timidly, on it. She sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut as she rested happily in my arms.

My t-shirt rode up her thighs where my hand was beneath it rubbing circles on her stomach, giving me a glimpse of her naked, fleshy hip. My throat was dry as I swallowed tightly, the temperature in the room seeming to rise as each moment passed.

She peeked up at me, her gaze shy, and I couldn't help the way I responded or the thoughts that ran through my mind, my cock rising as it hardened. I wanted her on her knees, those fucking juicy lips wrapped around my cock, suckling on it like it was her thumb.

The way she was sitting, her legs parted as they lay across my legs made my t-shirt bunch up over her hips giving me a glimpse of her pussy. She was oblivious to it, my hand rubbing her stomach and my humming relaxing her into a state of complacency. I could barely remember to breathe as I took in her bare mound and her pink, plump pussy lips.

I forced my gaze back up to meet hers, her carefully constructed innocence apparent as she pretended to be oblivious to the way she was flashing me. My cock twitched as blood surged through it, making it throb as it grew harder and thicker against my thigh.

"You look so cute, Princess, wearing Daddy's clothes," I cooed, my eyes drifting down to the way my worn, thin t-shirt molded around the buds of her puffy, constricted nipples, doing nothing to hide their aroused state. They strained against the fabric, the faded color of the cloth combined with the light streaming in through the window making the outline of her silver dollar coral nipples visible.

She flushed pink, her coy gaze meeting my eyes before ducking her head shyly, her thumb still poised between her lips.

The hand stroking her stomach crept lower, edging down over her pelvis. She squirmed in response, a trickle of wetness slipping from between her lips and clinging to her pubic hair. Her labia and clit were swelling, forcing her folds to part and open like a budding flower.

"Why aren't you wearing any panties, Princess?" The tips of my fingers ghosted over the smooth skin of her mound, and my thumb reached out to swipe her folds, nudging her engorged clit. Her hips bucked up and she moaned quietly, wriggling in my grip as she tried to escape my touch yet her hips continued to seek out more friction. I continued to graze her clit lightly, feeling her body react to my ministrations as I stimulated her to the point where her arousal mounted high, but lacked the friction needed for her to orgasm.

"Daddy," she whimpered when I stopped, her cheeks flushed with dual embarrassment and desire.

"You didn't answer my question, Princess. Why aren't you wearing any panties?"

She shrugged, her bottom lip jutting out petulantly as she refused to meet my gaze. "I couldn't find any."

We both knew she was lying, and I was quick to call her out on it. "So, if I went into your room and opened your closet, I won't find any of your panties?"

She shook her head stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest. A surge of excitement washed over me at her blatant denial. It was obvious that she was being purposefully obstinate, backing up my theory that she wanted to be pushed as much as I wanted to push her. I licked my lips, my muscles coiled and ready as I stood, throwing her carelessly over my shoulder, an arm wrapped tightly around her legs. Her fists beat into my back in protest as I strode into the living room, sitting down on the edge of the couch. I pulled her from my shoulder, manipulating her body so that she lay over one knee, her ass up high.

She struggled as I had expected her to, but I trapped her legs between my own and pulled her wrists behind her back, clasping them in one hand as I pressed them into the small of her back. I used my free hand to tug my t-shirt up her back, leaving her supple, pert ass cheeks bare for her spanking.

"The more you fight, the worse your spanking is going to be," I informed her, and she stopped trying to free herself, though the tension remained in her muscles. "Now, why am I spanking you?"

She refused to answer my question, and I clucked my tongue in annoyance. "Since you're being too much of a brat to answer, I'll tell you. You're getting a spanking for forgetting to wear panties and for lying to me about it."

She stayed stubbornly silent, and I ghosted my hand over her ass cheeks lightly before delivering the first spank. The intent behind it was clear, and the force bestowed upon her supported that. This was a disciplinary spanking, a spanking that would help liberate her, giving her total freedom. I wanted her to press beyond her limitations, to break through boundaries and reach the highest goal.

"Ow, Daddy, that hurt!" Her voice was indignant and slightly surprised, the force I had exerted more forceful than what she had been expecting.

I started out slow, the sound of my hand connecting to her ass sharp yet thrilling. My eyes stayed trained on what I was doing, watching each clench and flex of her jiggling cheeks. I slowly built up a rhythm, adding more pressure with each spank as they jumped back and forth between cheeks.

"Daddy!" she whined in discomfort.

I readjusted my grip on her wrist as I moved slightly, causing my cock to rub up against her hip. I kept in full control at all times, each spank calculated and with purpose, the force consistent. Since she had such pale skin, it didn't take long for it to darken and pinken. She whimpered, her once loud cries of objection dying out as her mind sunk deeper and deeper into her space. She may have purposefully provoked me to spank her, thinking that she had successfully manipulated me, but it was obvious, now, who was in charge.

She shifted, gasping in suppressed pain as she tried to compartmentalize it, pressing her pussy further into my leg as she spread her own, trying to back away from my harsh spanks. I was aware of every little thing, the way her toes curled as a low keen escaped her, her breaths coming out quicker and her fists reflexively clenching and unclenching.

It seemed contradictory, but controlling Isa freed me and having her lay here, practically nude over my fully clothed body planted a seed for confidence inside of me. The best part, though, was that come tomorrow we'd be the same lovesick and silly fools we were before, and it would be almost as if the whole ordeal had never taken place.

I could feel her innocence that glowing from within her, hidden deep in her soul, and I strived to keep her unbroken, unspoiled, and unharmed as I could. I was doing it as much for myself as I was for her. Her innocence made her beautiful to me, her disguised frailty making her a rare and special treasure, and my instincts endeavored to protect her.

My fingers tingled from the repeated impact on her ass and I could feel the heat radiating off her skin, hovering in the air between our bodies as the tension rose. I was more prepared to deal with the emotions and reactions that came with spanking, able to control them somewhat. The electricity between us flickered and sizzled, reacting to our bodies and emotions. I could feel the desire building inside me, and I pushed back the pressure in my chest that longed for me to just end this and plunge myself inside her.

This spanking was different than the first I'd given her, harsher, and I knew that if I pushed her too quickly that it would only overwhelm her, and that could be dangerous. I massaged her sore and tender flesh, not wanting to leave any lasting marks on her.

"Shhh," I soothed as she startled, my soft touch a huge contrast to what I had been giving her moments ago.

I let my hand slip down between her legs, cupping her slick, swollen pussy. I spread her folds, barely able to hold back the groan that threatened to escape as I found her more than ready for me. My fingers swirled around her clit, feeling her slippery arousal coat the tips of my finger before descending down her labia to her entrance.

I collected the wetness around her entrance on my fingers, her silken flesh hot. Her breathing stuttered as I pushed two fingers inside of her, plunging them deep before starting to thrust them at a quick, steady pace.

Her sweet cries and moans only spurred me on further, her hips rocking and grinding against my hand. My grip on her wrists was still sure, and I ignored her whine of protest as I withdrew my hand, licking my fingers clean before spanking her again. She squealed in surprise, having most likely thought that her spanking was over since I'd started touching her. I was keeping her on edge like this, leaving her unsure and vulnerable by having to take what I gave her. I hadn't given her a set number of how many spanks I was intending to give, and that in itself was a lesson. In this aspect of our relationship where I was the dominant party, she would have to learn to accept everything I gave her without hesitation or question. She didn't have to like it, but serving me in any way I saw fit should bring her pleasure, if the things I'd read were to be believed.

She was squirming more this time around, trying to pull her legs free as she tried to loosen my tight grip on her.

"Daddy!" she wailed unhappily, and I took that as my cue to stop. My hand needed no prompting as it disappeared between her legs again, my fingers twisting and curling as they dove inside. It didn't take long to have her moaning and bucking, the pleasure making her wanton.

The loose strands of her hair were dark and plastered to the back of her neck from the sweat that left a light layer of perspiration on her body. She was panting and compliant, her skin flushed, and her ass a lovely shade of dark pink. I was much more comfortable and at ease than the last time, and I decided to push her a little further, knowing that prodding at her boundaries were the only way to truly understand her body and how much it could take.

I swiped my thumb through her arousal before dragging it back toward her ass, rubbing her wetness over her little rosebud. She stiffened, her breathing ceasing for a moment as she realized what I was doing.

"No, Daddy," she whined, wriggling around as I rubbed little circles, slowly applying pressure with my thumb while my fingers continued to thrust in and out of her. She whimpered and struggled, but I could tell by the way her arousal was still trickling down my fingers that she was secretly enjoying it.

"It hurts, Daddy," she complained as I gathered more wetness and pushed the tip of my thumb inside her ass.

"Shhh, Princess, you're such a good girl, letting Daddy play with your ass. Just relax your muscles…that's a good girl. What color are you?" I asked, knowing that she was slightly uncomfortable. When we had discussed limits, she had marked ass play as a soft limit. It wasn't something she had ever done before and that left her feeling a little wary of it. This particular limit was something she had expressed an interest in exploring, so, ultimately, this was what she wanted.

She had repeatedly expressed her need to be owned by the will of a man, and by possessing her like this, I was doing just that. To put it in layman's terms, if I wanted my hand to be in her ass, I would put it there, whether she strictly asked for it or not, and she, in turn, could do nothing but allow me to.

"Green," she said breathlessly, reaffirming my point. This was also a trust exercise, and so far, she was passing with flying colors. It was times like this that helped us develop a deeper, stronger kind of trust that would have a lasting effect on all facets of our relationship.

"Good girl," I praised, slowly rotating my thumb and easing it in a little further. I was sure that the stretching of her muscles around my thumb burned, but I was hoping that my fingers—which were slowly drawing her toward a climax—were helping to soften the edges of her discomfort.

She panted and sighed as she rolled her hips, pushing my thumb a little deeper as she met my thrusts. She was giving us what we both wanted: more of what we had tasted the first time, and I let my thumb settle, neither moving it forward or backward as I focused my attention on making her cum.

"Hmmm, Daddy," she moaned, her walls fluttering down around my fingers as the quivering of her body grew more pronounced than before. Her thighs tensed, and she grew louder, her moans slipping through without filter as she soared higher, reaching out for her orgasm.

"Cum for me, Princess. Cum for Daddy." My words had their desired effect, coaxing her over the edge until she spasmed and clamped down, both her pussy and her ass tightening around my hand.

Shudders rolled through as she rode out her orgasm, her hips still rocking into my hand while I murmured words of encouragement. Her moans escalated in noise, faltering and stuttering as the pleasure surged through her, making her incoherent.

She flexed, residual tremors vibrating through her as she slowly sank back to earth. She groaned, unable to help herself as I withdrew my hand from her body. She was out of breath and slumped over my leg, unaware that I was not finished with her.

I soothed any lingering irritation from her ass, massaging and kneading it away. She may not be able to sit comfortably for the rest of the day, but apart from that there wouldn't be any long term bruising.

"Princess, do you want to make Daddy very happy?" I asked, ghosting my fingers over the path of one of her f note tattoos. She shivered in response, stretching her newly released arms slowly as she realized there was more to come.

"Uh huh," she mumbled, sounding tired. Not wanting to push her to the point of exhaustion, I checked in on her.

"What color are you?"

"Green," she confirmed, sounding more alive this time.

"Good. I want you on your knees between my legs."

I helped her up onto her feet, letting her position herself between my legs before sinking to her knees. "Open Daddy's pants."

She hesitated, staring up at me, her lashes sweeping up toward her brows, with trepidation. I quirked an eyebrow, prompting her to do as I'd asked. She swallowed and bit down hard on her lip before focusing her attention on the crotch of my pants where a noticeable bulge protruded. She popped open the button and slowly dragged down the zipper, causing me to groan in relief as some of the pressure was relieved from my cock.

I reached into my boxers, hissing at the sensitivity of my flesh as I pulled my engorged cock out. I gave it a few slow tugs, my gaze never leaving her face as she watched my cock.

"This is Daddy's cock. Daddy is going to teach you how to make him very happy with it, okay?"

She nodded slowly, her eyes transfixed on the way my hand moved over my turgid flesh, my fist tight as I stroked myself in long, slow strokes. Pre-cum beaded at the slit at the tip as I released my grip, and leaned back on my elbows.

"Touch it," I instructed. She shimmied closer, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear before laying her hands on my thighs. Her plump lips parted, and she peered up at me, innocence and desire written clearly across her face. Her hands crept up the length of my thighs, her gaze flitting back and forth between my eyes and my cock, her teeth sinking into the corner of her mouth. She tentatively reached out and dragged a finger down one of my veins, leaving a fiery trail as it throbbed with blood.

She wrapped her little fingers around my girth, the cocky part of me smug when her fingers didn't quite meet.

"What should I do, Daddy?" she asked.

"Squeeze me a little tighter, Princess." I groaned when she followed my instruction, my cock pulsing and my hips flexing in her grip. "That's it. Now, stroke me."

She pumped her fist from base to tip, her brows furrowing in concentration. A giggle escaped her when it twitched, and she rubbed the pearly fluid of my pre-cum into my cock, smearing it over the length.

I reached out, winding one hand around her long tresses and tugged her face closer.

"Open your mouth, Princess," I demanded. I used my grip on her hair to slowly guide her face closer, angling it down until the tip was at her lips.

She opened her mouth, her pouty lips parting, and allowed me to slip inside her mouth. Her lips tightened around me and she hummed softly, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine. I tipped my head back, a groan fresh on my lips as I struggled to find control. She waited patiently, neither sucking nor licking, just holding my cock in her mouth as I reined myself in.

"Suck on me, Princess. Suck on Daddy's cock."

She immediately started suckling on the head, swiping her tongue over the slit, one hand still wrapped around the base of my cock and the other balled up into a fist on my thigh. The groan that escaped me was strangled, and I thrust my hips up and tugged her head down further as she increased the suction.

"Fuck! My cock loves that. Take a little more, Princess. That's it, just like that," I instructed, as she slid more of me between her lips. She looked up at me and I nearly lost it, my balls tightening and my lips falling slack. Her wide, trusting eyes stared up at me, her thick, black eyelashes framing them and casting shadows against her cheeks. Her innocence was so dirty with my cock in her mouth, and the way she sucked on my cock, so eager and willing to please, made it all the more challenging to hold back.

I guided her head up and down the length of my cock, forcing her to bob her head in time with my thrusts, taking more of me with each pass until I felt the swollen head nudge the back of her throat. I groaned loudly as a burst of pleasure washed over me and my balls tightened, the way her throat constricted as she gagged around me only spurred me on further.

She whimpered as I backed up a little; tears from trying to control her gag reflex springing to her eyes. I cupped her neck with my free hand, caressing it as I shushed her. "Breathe through your nose."

She did as she was told and refocused her attention on taking me in further. I reveled in the little wet noises her mouth made as she sucked and slurped on me, and I unconsciously tilted my hip up, pushing my cock further down her throat. She was ready for me this time, breathing heavily through her nose as she swallowed then retreated, her tongue massaging the head and dipping beneath the slit.

It was a heady feeling, wielding so much power and knowing that she would do just about anything to please me. I wasn't gentle with her as I fucked her mouth, my hips rolling and rocking up, the sight of my cock disappearing between her lips bringing me that much closer to cumming. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, yet her lids drooped with lust and her dilated pupils begged for me to give her more

I swore loudly as her throat constricted around me again as she gagged on my cock. Fire burned in my balls as they tightened and lifted, my cock pulsating and twitching. I held her down me as I spilled my seed in long, powerful spurts down her throat.

"Swallow!" I grunted out. She struggled to take it all as she choked, and I watched my cum dribble out from between her lips and down her chin as she attempted to follow my instruction. My eyes rolled back into my head, and I backed up a little, groaning at the feel of her milking my cock as she gulped down the cum she hadn't managed to swallow yet.

I slumped back against the couch as my orgasm receded, my cock sensitive as she continued to suck on it, cleaning me up before she leaned back on her haunches and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked up at me, obviously pleased with herself as she licked any residual cum off of her lips.

I was drained, and all too happy to call the end of the scene as she crawled up into my lap. I wasn't sure for how long we sat in silence, coming down from the high before I maneuvered us into the bathroom to draw a bath. I didn't fight her when she coaxed me to join her in the hot water, happy to feel her resting between my legs as I wrapped my arms tightly around her.

We shared light kisses, chasing away the raw feeling of being so deeply submerged for so long. I could feel the intimacy hovering in the air between us, drawing us closer to one another as we leaned into one another, cleaning away the sweat from each other's bodies.

As we had done the last time, we migrated to Isa's bed to indulge in our own version of pillow talk. We spooned, her body tucked against mine, her feet against my calves as we snuggled beneath the covers.

"Thank you," she said with a soft sigh, pressing back further into my arms. "You have no idea how much I needed that."

"If you need me to give you something, you only need to ask me for it," I told her. "That being said, I was thinking that maybe we should make this a regular thing. We can play every other weekend or something."  
She twisted around in my arms to face me, resting her head on my arm as she gazed up at me. "Really? It wouldn't be too much?"

I shook my head. "I don't see why it would. If anything, it'll make it much more easier for us to acclimate ourselves. Maybe later on we can change it, but a little bit of structure won't hurt."

"I like that idea. I'm not quite comfortable asking you to play, and I while I'm sure that it'll get easier, having a set day will take some of the weight off trying to figure everything out."

I nodded in agreement. "So, you were okay with me initiating a scene? I saw the way you looked when we were watching the video, and I decided to take that as cue that you wanted some play time."

"I played the video on purpose," she admitted. "I didn't know how to ask you, so I just decided to nudge you in the right direction. I wasn't trying to manipulate you or anything like that; I just hoped that you wanted to play as much as I did. To be truthful though, I honestly didn't expect you to react so quickly and so strongly. It was a little confusing at first, the way you used my triggers since I wasn't quite expecting it, but then you started humming as well as rubbing my stomach and it was like all the emotion just blindsided me."

Maybe I should have felt a little annoyed at what she had done, but her motives had been pure, and it'd had its desired effect. I had taken her cue and gone with it, and to be honest, I wasn't all that surprised. Isa was the kind of girl to take initiative. If there was something that she wanted, she didn't hesitate to do what needed to be done to insure that she got it, and I liked that about her.

I must have been quiet for too long because Isa started to look worried. I cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss, brushing away her doubts that I was angry.

"I'm glad you did," I told her when we pulled back. "I may not be the most astute of men, but it worked. Just know that if you make it a habit, it will result in a spanking. I don't want you to forget who is in charge when it comes to that aspect of your relationship."

"I didn't push you too far today, did I?" I added after a moment's thought. "I know I pushed one of your soft limits."

She shook her head. "No. I mean, at first, I was a little scared and uncomfortable, but then you asked me what color I was, and I realized that I had no need to be worried because I trusted you. I knew that if at any moment I felt unsafe or fearful, I could safeword and you would immediately stop."

I was happy about her revelation and humbled by her trust. We were moving in steady steps deeper and deeper into this fetish of ours, and so far, things had gone smoothly. We were ready to expand and spread our wings, no longer afraid of entering into this new territory, and I couldn't help but wonder just where this would take us.****

AN: Leave me some love!

Q and A time!

Q: When will Isa meet Edward's brothers?  
A: Good question. It will in a few chapters, but they do make an appearance next chapter to see Edward.

Q: Edward made a comment in the last chapter about having an exhibishionist streak, was that just a side comment or will we see some of that as the story progresses?  
A: Lol, it was placed there purposefully. In chapter 7, Edward made a comment about being a closeted nudist, so I'm setting that up for something here.

Q: When is the chapter with the piercing?  
A: Urgh, I have no idea. I wanted to be the next chapter, but it didn't work out, but, fingers crossed, it'll be soon.

Q: When will they get into more of the daddy kink?  
A: As you saw in this chapter, its a process that they both have to figure out before that answer is truly answered.

Q:Will they first become strong in their relationship and then start playing more?  
A: Uhmm, they are kind of balancing the two aspects of their relationship right now. It'll be side by side.

Q: Where is Carlisle, and why hasn't Isa met him yet?  
A: Isn't this the question on everyone's lips. Isa didn't meet him last chapter because he'd already left for the day when they got back and Isa left early before he arrived. For some reason, the meeting between Carlisle and Isa keeps getting pushed back, but I promise you that it will happen soon.

Q:Will past partners factor into their social life or their play world?  
A:You'll just have to wait and see on that count. I only have a couple more chapters mapped out in my mind right now, but who knows what could happen in later chapters.

Q:Does charlotte know Edward from somewhere? Is he the 'E' that Isa threatened  
her with?  
A: Maybe he is...and maybe he isn't...


	11. Chapter 11

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 11**

**AN: Thanks to NinaQ and darcysmom from PTB for betaing this for me. Sorry for the long wait. I've been super busy, and if it wasn't for Noc kicking me in the ass then I probably wouldn't have posted this till after the holidays. Happy Christmas Eve!**

**Playlist:**

**Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons****  
****Love The Way You Lie (Original Demo) by Skylar Grey****  
****Locked Out Of Heaven by Bruno Mars****  
****Skyfall by Adele****  
****I Know You Care by Ellie Goulding**

**...**

At first I thought that the rocking motion was part of my dream. The voice that accompanied it, however, sliced through the heavy cloud shrouding my brain, demanding to be heard.

"Master Cullen, you need to get up," Carlisle said insistently, nudging me awake. I groaned and rolled over, dragging my pillow with me and covering my head with it. Every muscle in my body seemed to be sore and heavy, the exhaustion of having little to no sleep for the last three nights weighing heavily on my poor body as it screamed for more rest.

"Master Cullen, you are supposed to meet with your brothers in little under an hour. An engagement, if I must remind you, that you insisted on being informed of and forced into going."

I let out another groan, this one filled with long-suffering as I burrowed further beneath the sheets of my bed, clinging to the remnants of sleep as the cold slap of awareness hit me.

"Fuck," I spat, knowing that if I didn't get out of bed and downtown in the next hour there would be hell to pay. It had been a while since we'd all gotten together for lunch, and I had promised under pain of death to be there, even with the inevitable interrogation on my love life.

I threw back the covers and practically fell out of bed as I blindly fumbled my way toward the bathroom, my vision still blurry. I blinked rapidly, completely forgetting Carlisle's presence as I stumbled naked past him and into the bathroom, yawning loudly between incoherent mumbling.

I hummed low in my throat as I raised my arms, bending them behind my behind my back as I stretched my muscles, cringing as they popped. I rubbed a hand over my eyes and yawned again as I took a piss before staggering into the shower. The hot water soothed some of the tension in me and helped me wake up. I cleaned off the paint still smudged on me and washed my hair before stepping out.

I grabbed a towel off the heated rack and slung it around my hips before padding over to the sink to shave and brush my teeth. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, Carlisle had stripped my bed and opened the curtains wide, letting in some light. I sighed and raked a towel through my hair as I took the large cup of coffee from the breakfast tray he had made and left on my nightstand. Feeling a little more alive with the bitter liquid shooting caffeine through my veins, I threw open my closet to find something acceptable to wear. We were supposed to meet at Asiate, a restaurant in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, and slumming it in jeans and a t-shirt would meet their dress code.

I yanked on a pair of dark slacks, foregoing underwear altogether, and a Robin's egg blue shirt with the top three buttons undone to reveal my white undershirt. I pushed up the sleeves to my elbow and grabbed a fedora since I didn't have time to do my hair. I slid on my worn black chucks, not caring in the least that they didn't quite go with the rest of what I was wearing before grabbing my bag.

"There is a cab waiting for you in front of building, sir," Carlisle informed me as I jammed my keys and wallet into my bag while balancing a piece of toast between my teeth.

I gave a grunt of affirmation as I picked up my phone, which, thanks to Carlisle was fully charged. I cringed when I saw how many missed calls and texts were waiting for me and looked over at Carlisle.

"Did anyone call while I was working?" I asked.

"Carmen called three times to catch up and remind you on Eleazar's behalf of your lunch engagement today, and a Ms. Isabella Swan rang twice. I told them both you were indisposed and that I would inform you of their calls as soon as you were available."

"Shit," I muttered, wondering why he couldn't just say that I was working, so that I didn't sound like I was avoiding people. I just hoped that Isa remembered what I'd told her about my penchant for doing that. I'd hate for her to think that I was avoiding her or pulling back in our relationship. I let out a sigh of irritation and dragged my aplms over my face, too tired to properly deal with that situation just yet.

I left, taking the cab sitting outside my building to the restaurant, thankful that it was nearby. I used the time afforded me by the traffic to scroll through my texts, most of which were from Isa. I felt like shit when I read each one, seeing her worry seep further into each text until she'd finally just told me to text her when I had the time.

I called her, listening to her phone ring before it went to voicemail.

"If you're hearing this, it means you've reached my voicemail. If you're dying, please leave a message, and if you're not, then feel free to call back later or, you know, leave a message, and I'll try to get back to you...Beep..."

Realizing that she was most likely at practice right now, I quickly sent her a reassuring text to let her know that I was still alive.

Sorry for being MIA for the last few days, was locked in my studio working. Call me later after practice - E

By the time I arrived at the restaurant and was led to where Emmett and Eleazar were, I was about twenty minutes late and they were on their main courses.

"Sorry, I'm late," I apologized, slumping into my chair and picking up the menu. I quickly ordered the American Wagyu Beef with smoked potato purée and a Pomme Royale apple cider.

"You look like shit," Emmett commented offhandedly as he speared a bite-sized piece of tenderloin and popped it into his mouth.

"You know just how to boost my self-esteem, little brother. Next time I'm feeling low, I know where to go for a pick-me-up," I responded dryly.

He shrugged and grinned, one side of his mouth pulling up higher than the other, making him look wolfish. "Just telling it how it is. I'm actually surprised you turned up. When Carmen told us that Carlisle said you were 'indisposed,' I thought the soonest I'd see you would be at the family Sunday brunch at the end of the month."

"Fuck, I completely forgot about that. That's in two weeks, right?"

"Yep."

I chewed absently on my lip as I mulled over my possible options. I had been thinking of inviting Isa to come with me but was wary that meeting my family might be too much too soon. My family weren't exactly the most gentle and subtle of people, and an interrogation of her intentions toward me would be sure to ensue, along with them prying into every facet of her life. In fact, it was quite horrifying just to think about since they'd be sure to make her run for the hills.

"Edward!" Eleazar called out, startling me from my thoughts.

I made a sound of acknowledgement, quirking an eyebrow quizzically. "Can I help you?"

"Maybe you could start by tuning into the conversation. Carmen was telling me that you've found yourself a girlfriend."

"Of course she did," I muttered. "As shocking as it sounds, yes, I do have a girlfriend."

Eleazar smiled in triumph and turned to Emmett. "You owe me a hundred bucks."

Emmett groaned and pulled out his wallet. "Oh, come on. He totally could have been gay."

I looked between them, not even bothering to feel perturbed by their behavior. Taking bets amongst each other had been the norm for years, and I wasn't embarrassed to say that I had joined them at times. You can imagine as teenagers we had taken a lot of bets, which were encouraged by daring each other to do ridiculous and dangerous things in return for money or other things of worth.

"I'm glad you're making money off my sexual orientation, Eleazar," I commented wryly.

He grinned sheepishly. "I've been sitting on that bet since you first decided to go celibate."

I shook my head at him. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"Guys," Emmett interjected. "Let's focus on the more important facts, like that our brother is finally getting some. Tell us about the lucky lady."

I shrugged and leaned back in my seat, unable to curb the smirk that curled up on my lips. "She's pretty fucking perfect," I admitted. "She's a cellist, but she also volunteers at Music Matters in her spare time. She's independent and opinionated, but she's also soft and feminine. Her name's Isa, which is short for Isabella, and I can honestly say that I've never met a woman quite like her."

"I'm happy for you," Eleazar told me sincerely. "I'm glad you've found someone you can connect with."

"What's the sex like?" Emmett asked as blunt as ever.

Usually, I wasn't one to kiss and tell, and while I had no intention of being explicit about mine and Isa's sex life, that didn't mean that I couldn't tell them a few things.

"She's very in touch with her sexuality. She knows what she wants and what she likes and isn't afraid to ask for it or take it. Sometimes though, she likes for me to take control and, you know, be forceful and dominant."

I didn't give details, not wanting to break Isa's confidence. It was one thing to share what I had and a whole other thing to delve into the intricacies of Isa and my fetish. I wasn't comfortable explaining that intimate part of our relationship. Not that I was ashamed or embarrassed by it, but I was a firm believer that certain things should be kept to ourselves private, especially when it came to my brothers.

I loved my brothers, but when it came to stuff like this they would just use it for teasing fodder and not take it seriously. I wasn't going to subject myself or Isa to that. They wouldn't be nasty about it, and I knew they wouldn't judge, but they lacked the sensitivity to truly understand the depths and intimacy of it.

It had taken me awhile to realize why being Isa's Daddy was so easy and effortless. Deep inside the crevices of my soul were innate Daddy characteristics, that, once pointed out, had started me on a journey of self-discovery. There had been no need for me to be convinced of it, or taught how to be a Daddy, it had simply been as though if a light had switched on in my mind, awakening me as if from a deep sleep.

Similarly, Isa had described her behavior when being my Little as being seamless and without any kind of practice. It was natural for us identify ourselves as Daddy/Little Girl, the draw between us in those times was more powerful than many other forms of attraction. It was rooted in deep-seated and old emotions that had followed us from a young age, and our dynamic worked as an outlet for all those unresolved feelings.

Isa had explained to me that she had been forced to grow up quickly as a child. She'd watched her parent's turbulent marriage as it collapsed before her eyes and then gone through the ups and downs as they divorced, yet tried to stay together as a family. She had attempted to downplay the severity of how much it had all affected her, but I had seen the vulnerable little girl shining through Isa's eyes as she talked.

Don't get me wrong, she was close to both of her parents, and she visited them often, but scars had been left behind. I knew that to others, our fetish would be seen as a result of "daddy issues," and while I wasn't sure what that said about me, I truly didn't give a shit. What we had couldn't be placed in a box and labeled by society's ideas of what was and was not acceptable.

It was freeing not to have to conform to other's ideas, to deviate from the known path to a less traveled one. I knew that there were ignorant people out there who would describe our fetish as wrong, disgusting, or creepy, but those people did not understand the true intimacy that it gave us. Having Isa bent over my lap while I spanked her could seem like abuse to some, but it was in those moments that I felt so much closer to her. I had always been aware of Isa, her presence was not something easily ignored, but at those times, it was amplified to the point that each twitch of her muscles and breath she took was documented in my mind.

I had never done anything or touched her in any way which went against her consent, and I never intended to. That wasn't to say that it was all clean cut and simple, because boundaries had to be pushed, and sometimes they pushed back. So far, Isa hadn't had to use her safeword, but there were times when I'd had to read the cues of her body and recede before her discomfort rose to a level where the words red or yellow would have passed her lips.

We were slowly getting into the swing of playing, but Isa had expressed to me a reluctance to safeword. I, so far, hadn't put her in a place where she felt the need to use it, but if that point ever came and she didn't, it would not only damage her trust in me, but also my trust in myself. If I couldn't trust her to know her limits and be honest with me about them, then I couldn't guide her appropriately without second guessing myself.

I had explained that to her, but I knew she was still unsure, and I dreaded having to push that barrier so that she could comprehend the importance of its use. It was there to protect her, not to hinder her, and I needed her to realize that.

The rest of lunch passed quickly as we caught up, eating and talking for a few hours. We harassed each other and talked shit, but we also discussed important things. It seemed that Eleazar and Carmen's attempts to get pregnant were not going well. They had been trying for a year without success since Carmen's miscarriage last spring. I couldn't imagine what they were both going through, and I could see that the stress was taking its toll on Eleazar. It made me thankful that I never intended to have any children of my own.

I was content to play the role of uncle for both of my brother's families. As much as Emmett tried to deny ever settling down, I knew he secretly longed for the whole white picket fence fantasy. It wasn't hard for me to imagine him with the wife, kids and dog, and it filled me with a sense of contentment. Just because I didn't want it for myself didn't mean that I didn't get why others wanted it. I knew at one point I'd probably get married, but it wasn't something that I thought held importance. Nowadays, marriage didn't hold the same commitment and strength it once did.

I didn't realize how restless I was until Isa entered my life, and I felt myself fully relax when I saw that she had responded to my text. My lips twitched up when I saw what she had written.

So you've rejoined the land of the living. For a while there, I thought you were ignoring me. I missed you. - Iz

I quickly tapped out a response.

Never! You're too important for me to ignore. I'm finishing up lunch with my brothers but I'm free otherwise. Let me make it up to you. Oh, and I missed you too - E

I was grinning to myself as I looked up and met the disbelieving stares of my brothers, making me feel self-conscious. "What?" I asked.

"You're smitten," Eleazar stated, his surprise apparent.

"He's in love," Emmett chimed in, drawing out the last word until it sounded more like "lurve" than "love."

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off as my phone chimed, signaling a text. "Whatever. We've only been dating a couple of months."

Hmmm, what do you have in mind? I'm at work right now, but I can leave early today, so come by after your lunch. - Iz

"Fuck, he's head over heels, isn't he? I don't think I've ever seen him like this over a girl," Eleazar said with a grin. "He's practically glowing over a text."

"For fuck's sake," I grumbled to myself, not quite ready to admit to the truth of his statement. Yeah, I knew I had feelings for Isa, I had from the first second I saw her from across the street, but I was happy, for the time being, to live in denial about the depths of those feelings.

"Oh, don't be a sour grape, Ed. We're only teasing you," Emmett said.

"Yeah, well, I'm running on about five hours sleep, so fuck you two," I snapped a little harsher than I intended to. I dry-washed my face and sighed, internally chastising myself for being so defensive. It was natural for them to pry and rib me, but I was protective about Isa and my relationship, and my irritation had flared in response to their light mocking. I knew I was being a little too sensitive about it, but I didn't want them to diminish what we had with their teasing.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "Just back off a little, okay? You know when I'm ready I'll share, but until then, give me a little space to figure it all out for myself."

They nodded in agreement, not in the least bit offended. "Hey, did you hear about Liam Connolly?" Emmett asked, changing the subject.

"Liam, as in Father Liam, as in Irish Catholic priest Liam?" I questioned.

"That's the one. He's moving out here next month."

"Did he say what for?" Eleazar asked. We'd all known Liam from when we were kids, his family having been close to ours, but it had been a few years since he'd moved home to Ireland, and I was sad to say that I hadn't kept in good contact with him.

"Nah, but he mentioned something about studying. I'm sure we can pry out the details when he gets here. You know what he's like. He's almost worse than Edward when it comes to sharing details."

I ignored the slight jab in my direction, choosing instead to focus on the conversation at hand.

"We'll have to take him out, for old times sake," Eleazar added.

"Where the fuck can you take a Catholic priest? I mean, strip clubs and Hooters are definitely off the list and priests aren't allowed to drink alcohol, so I'm stumped."

"This may sound shocking but there other things we can do that don't involve sex or alcohol. Plus, last time I checked priests can drink. We could take him up to the batting cages. We used to have a lot of fun there," I suggested.

"Yeah, when we were drunk or high," Emmett muttered, causing me to roll my eyes.

"How about dinner at my place? Carmen makes a mean shepherd's pie, and you know how much he likes that."

"God, that sounds boring. No offense, Eleazar, but I'm not even thirty yet. Things like having friends over for some kind of dinner party is not my idea of a fun evening. We all know Carmen will use it as an opportunity to show off her china and try to set me up with one of her friends. I'm not even sure how I get roped into those things."

"You go because you're hoping to get the company when Eleazar croaks, and so you need to stay in his good books," I quipped.

"That, and a strange sense of loyalty I have to my family. That being said, have you told Nana Es about your girlfriend? One of us is going to slip up at some point, and you know what she's like."

I pulled a face. "I'll call her next week. I'm sure she'll insist that I bring Isa to Sunday brunch, but I guess that's unavoidable."

"I'm sure Carmen will be thrilled to meet her. She hasn't shut up about her since the benefit," Eleazar commented.

"I guess I can suffer through one brunch with you lot, no matter how horrifying that prospect seems."

"We're not that bad, you know. You make us sound like the Spanish Inquisition, all interrogations and senseless killings. We are civilized human beings," Eleazar huffed.

"On a good day, anyway," Emmett added with a smirk.

"I'll ask her if she wants to come, but don't expect me to be disappointed if she declines the invitation."

"We wouldn't dream of it," Eleazar murmured, looking rather satisfied with himself.

"Does this mean I'm allowed to bring a date?" Emmett asked.

"No!" Eleazar and I answered simultaneously. After the disaster that had occurred the last time he'd brought his flavor of the month to a family gathering, his dates had been banned from attending until he finally settled on someone that he was serious about.

"You guys are no fun. It was only a quilt."

"It was a wedding quilt made by great-granny Meme in the thirties. Your flavor of the month set it on fire. I think I can understand why your dates were banned after that particular incident," Eleazer replied dryly.

I checked my watch inconspicuously, noticing that lunch had been going on for a couple of hours now. I threw down my napkin and made a move to stand, the anticipation of seeing Isa making me restless.

"Well, this has been lovely, but I have things to do, places to go, and people to see," I murmured, pulling out my wallet and throwing some bills on the table. "I'll see you two at Sunday brunch."

They grunted their farewells and waved me off as I stepped away from the table and headed toward the exit, my phone in hand.

I'm on my way over. I'll be there in 30 mins - E

I didn't hesitate to send it as I hailed a cab, making a detour to a florist for a bouquet of white and lavender irises.

There was a spring in my step as I made my way out of the elevator and into the second floor where the Music Matters offices were located.

My fingers twitched with nervous energy, my jumbled feelings causing my current painting to haunt my mind in an effort to distract me as I mentally improved it, adding and refining the edges. A part of me was itching to get back into my studio, but another, bigger part realized that after all the time I had already spent away, other things had to take precedence, and I couldn't find it in me to be too upset about it.

The offices were easy to find and the receptionist had been very helpful in giving me directions to Isa's desk. I navigated my way through the halls, following the mental map I had been given until I reached my destination. I turned the last corner and promptly froze in my steps, a primal and possessive arousal fluttering in my stomach as I caught sight of her.

She was leaning over a desk, her back arched and her elbows resting on it as her full perky ass pushed out, her hips swaying slightly in an enticing rhythm.

Ruby-painted lips pulled up in a smile, her dimples making soft depressions in her cheeks as her molten chocolate eyes sparkled behind her glasses. She looked like any man's wet dream in her tight black pencil skirt with gold buttons down the front that fell to her knees and climbed up over her waist till it stopped beneath her breasts. How she managed to pour herself into it I doubt I'd ever find out but she was unbelievably sexy in it. Her crisp white shirt was open enough to show a hint of cleavage, but not enough for it to be suggestive.

Her hair was pulled back in a low bun resting just above the nape of her neck, a few loose, glossy tendrils curling and framing her face.

The poor boy she was chatting with was desperately trying to keep his eyes off her breasts—a valiant effort in futility—while she chatted good naturedly, seemingly oblivious to the attention she was drawing. Men passed by her, almost falling over and banging into things as they stared at her with desire, the way her skirt rounded over her luscious ass and sensually curved hips before tapering off to reveal long, shapely legs and tall, black, shiny heels, enough to make any man drool.

She gathered a pile of papers off the desk as she straightened up, hugging them to her chest. The only way to truly describe the way she walked as she moved away was to say that she sashayed, hips swinging as she strutted confidently down the hall, back straight and head held high. She wasn't arrogant, her warm, friendly smile softening her disposition, but there was a certain amount of authority in her stance. She looked like a woman who wouldn't cut corners or let things slide by unnoticed by slackers.

It was a new side of Isa that I was unfamiliar with, but couldn't help but instantly react to it in the same way every other man here was. The only difference was that I had some sort of claim over her that they didn't. The possessive side of me reared up, demanding that I stake that claim plainly for all of them to see.

I stalking forward, my muscles coiled and ready to spring as I took long strides toward where she was standing by the water cooler, oblivious to my presence as she raised a plastic cup to her lips. I could feel eyes on me, and I was pleased that—thanks to my lunch earlier—I was dressed smarter than usual, my dark slacks and blue shirt a contrast to the usual jeans and T-shirt combination I liked to wear.

The need I felt was animalistic and forceful, causing my hands to curl into fists as I tried to rein it in. I had never felt such intense emotions before, and I wanted to rub my scent on her and mark her prominently for all to see. I felt like growling at the suggestive stares in her direction to make them stop. It was ridiculous, and I was thinking like a Neanderthal, yet part of me found my reaction completely logical, as though it was expected of me to protect what was mine from the covetous glances of others.

I moved up behind her, forcing myself not to grab her and latch my mouth to her neck, biting and sucking her pale skin with the intent of leaving behind a mark. I bent down and whispered in her ear. "Guess who?"

She twisted around to face me, the blinding smile she gave me quelling the gnawing need and subduing my jealousy. I released a long breath, allowing some of the tension to drain from my tightly wound muscles as the heat of her body seeped through my clothes and her scent filtered through my nose. I reached out for her, my hand curling around her supple hip as I drew her closer and returned her smile.

It was due only to the fact that this was her place of work and I didn't want to embarrass her and come off as a possessive asshole that I refrained from pushing her up against the wall and showing every man just who had the privilege of being with her. Instead, I settled for a chaste kiss on the lips, though my hand did move to graze over the full cheeks of her ass before I pulled back. "Hi," I greeted her, offering her the bouquet of irises, which she took happily.

"Hello," she responded coyly, rolling her bottom lip in-between her pearly white teeth. "Let me just grab my stuff, and we can go."

I reluctantly released her as she stepped back and turned in the direction of her desk to collect her jacket and bag. My eyes caught sight of a group of guys loitering in the entrance of the break room staring in my direction. I quirked an eyebrow quizzically, giving them a cocky smirk as they glanced between me and Isa with what could only be described as disgruntled and disappointed expressions. I silently communicated my feelings to them, letting them know that she wasn't available, and that I had no intentions of letting them anywhere near her.

"You know, peeing on my leg might have been a little quicker," Isa commented offhandedly as she walked past. I gave her a look of pure innocence when I caught up with her by the elevators and took her bag like the gentleman my mother had taught me to be.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied smoothly, my hand resting possessively in the small of her back. She made a noise of disbelief, but seemed more amused than annoyed by my behavior.

"Though you should have seen the way they were looking at you," I added, talking more to myself than to Isa as I voiced my annoyance.

She rolled her eyes and turned toward me as we stepped into the elevator. "Edward, men look. That's what they do, but as long as they keep their hands and thoughts to themselves then I don't have to break any bones. I'm a very self-sufficient woman when I want to be."

"Spoken like a true feminist," I teased.

She scoffed. "Being independent and a feminist are two completely different things. I don't believe that I'm any better than a man nor do I want to be. Sure, women are better at some things than men, but it's the same both ways. Equality between the sexes isn't easy to come by, but as long as I'm treated with respect and like I am valuable member of the team, then I don't give a shit about whether men are esteemed higher than women," Isa ranted.

"Wow, you obviously feel very strongly about that."

She shrugged. "My mother is an advocate for women's rights. It's a subject we butt heads over a lot. I guess I just don't care enough about proving to the world that women are just as good as men, if not better, which drives her crazy. I swear, we can argue for hours on the subject without getting anywhere. I get my stubbornness from her and my fiery temper from my dad."

I listened with rapt attention as we stepped out into the mid-afternoon sun, digesting the new information I had just learned about her. I had already seen her stubborn streak come out to play before, but if her temper was as intense as her passion then I honestly couldn't wait to see it.

"You know, I'm supposed to be angry with you," she mused, a crinkle forming between her brows.

"You are?" I asked.

"Uh huh. I've spent the last few days under the impression that you were ignoring me. I tend to not like feeling as though I'm being ignored. Not that it was completely your fault since you did warn me about that happening. Inconveniently, I forgot and thought that you were having second thoughts about our relationship and pulling back."

She stated it all matter-of-factly, and if it weren't for the fact that she was inspecting her flowers so closely and refusing to meet my eyes, I might have believed that she had been unaffected by my brief disappearance. My feet paused on the sidewalk, not caring about the fact that I was standing on a busy street as I caught Isa by her waist, stopping her from walking on without me, and tugged till her back hit my chest.

"Baby," I started, nuzzling her throat. "I'm sorry I made you doubt me, us. I have absolutely no second thoughts about our relationship. I love the way we are together, and only an idiot would give it up. I...care deeply about you, Isa, and I will do everything in my power not to jeopardize what we have. In fact, I was planning on inviting you to Sunday brunch with my family next week."

She twisted around in my grip, her expression one of cautious optimism. "You want me to meet your family?"

I licked my suddenly dry lips and swallowed back any trepidation that dared brim. "Yes. I can't promise that they will behave like civilized human beings, but I'm sure they'll love you."

I could see her mind whirring behind her eyes, the way she nibbled on the corner of her lip showing her uncertainty. "Are you sure?" she asked. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to meet you family, but this is a big step. It'll be harder to get rid of me once I know your family."

"Good," I said decisively, wanting to dispel her doubts. "I don't want to be rid of you...ever."

She opened her mouth to respond, but my lips cut off any argument she might have had. She gasped in surprise, her body easily following the pull of my hands so that our hips connected. Her plush lips were warm and soft, pliant but not passive, as they moved against mine, giving into the demand of my coaxing mouth. My tongue swiped over her plump top lip before I rolled it into my mouth and sucked on it. My teeth nipped softly and a strangled whimper escaped her as she slipped a hand around the back of my neck, playing with the soft ends of my hair. The heat of her touch caused a shudder to race down my spine as her hand threaded through the thick strands of my hair, fisting it gently.

I kissed her like I owned her, possessing her mouth in the way I had longed to do since I had first stepped into her office. I tilted my head as I deepened the kiss, delving my tongue between her parted lips and letting it tangle with hers. She surrendered willingly, clinging to me as her nails dug into my scalp and my cock hardened, pushing furiously at the seam of my jeans. Lust flared up inside of me, surging through my veins as blood filled my cock, making it swell thicker as it twitched and grew, the head engorged and aching for her.

She tore her mouth away once oxygen became a necessity, resting her forehead against mine as I held her close.

"Okay," she murmured.

"Okay what?" I questioned, my mind still clouded by the kiss.

"Okay, I'll go meet your family, but turnabout is fair play so you'll have to meet mine soon too," she clarified.

"And am I forgiven for dropping off the face of the planet for a few days?"

She made a noncommittal noise. "We'll see. Now, as much as I would like to stand here all day, I'm hungry and tired."

"Do you want to go anywhere specific?"

"You don't mind if we just go back to mine, do you? I kind of want to change out of these clothes, order takeout and just bum in front of the TV," she admitted.

A wave of relief and affection rushed through, and I found myself, once again, thanking God for bestowing this woman upon me. I was still exhausted and doing anything that required brain power was not on top of my list of things to do.

"Sounds perfect. We get to make out on your couch like teenagers, right?"

She laughed. "Of course, and if you're good, I'll let you get to second base."

"Under or over your top?"

"Under."

"And will it be reciprocated?"

"Of course."

"Then I'm in," I declared with a note of finality in my tone. I hailed a cab, opening the door for her to slip inside before joining her.

"Good, there's nothing better than watching soft porn with plot thrown in for good measure with your boyfriend. I'll warn you now that I tend to add my own commentary."

"Don't worry, I'll keep your mouth nice and occupied," I responded with a salacious grin before turning to the driver and rattling off Isa's address.

"Blow jobs count as third base," she shot back, giving as good as she got.

"I never was good at math."

"Just as well you're so pretty then, huh?"

I snorted. "Pretty isn't a word I'd use to describe myself."

"I'd be worried if it were."

I laughed, the sound deep in the back of my throat as I ducked my head, pressing it into her shoulder. "You really are one of a kind, do you know that?"

"Is that your way if saying that I'm weird?"

"No, it's my way of saying never change."

"Well, you're pretty fucking fantastic yourself. I like that you're comfortable enough with yourself that you don't feel the need to constantly impress me, and that you can accept me for who I am without picking at my flaws or trying to change me."

"Nobody should want to change you. You're imperfectly perfect the way you are."

"The same goes for you, Edward. I'm not upset about you disappearing anymore. If I hang onto the petty things, then we'll fall when the big things hit. Anyway, I used to do the same when I composed, so, to a certain point, I understand. Just…next time can you give me a little warning? Just a few words texted to me before it takes over so that I know you're all right. I know you can't always anticipate it, I just—"

I lifted my head off her shoulder and placed a finger over her mouth to stop her before she started babbling. "I never want you to feel like you can't trust me or my intentions. If I can't personally tell you, I'll have Carlisle call you."

As much of an asshole as it made me sound, I hadn't given any of my other girlfriends this same courtesy. Then again, they generally never cared if I disappeared for a few days unless it coincided with a date or social function they wanted me to escort them to.

My brows furrowed as I frowned. I had long since learned not to dwell on the past, but at times it still seemed too close to ignore the mistakes that had led me here. In truth, I would do it all again if it meant having these last few months with Isa. Thinking of the darkness that had once plagued me had my frown deepening, and I rubbed my fingers absently over my sleeve where my tattoo was hidden beneath.

"What are you thinking about?" Isa asked, smoothing her fingers over the lines marring my brow.

"You, my parents, my past, and my life in general," I answered honestly.

"You know, someone once told me that you shouldn't cry because things end, lives, parts of our story, even the day. Instead, we should smile because it happened, because it brought us to where we are now. The past will always be part of our present and the present will always be the path to our future. Sure, every so often we could do with a map to guide us along, but in the end, it's the things we don't expect, the things that surprise us, that make the most impact on our lives."

"Sage advice, Ms. Swan. I wish it was as easy to put it into practice as it was to hear it."

"Even if you don't succeed today or tomorrow, there's always another day to conquer it," she said earnestly, and I couldn't hold back the urge to connect with her as I pressed my lips to hers gently. The need bubbled up in my stomach, overwhelming my senses as my chest constricted almost to the point where I couldn't breathe.

"My own little motivator," I mumbled against her mouth.

She giggled sweetly, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks. "A good girlfriend encourages her man," she stated as though it was the most simplest truth known to man.

"And a good boyfriend makes sure he's worth every word of it," I responded.

"I've never doubted that you're worth it."

"And I hope you never will."

Our eyes met, communicating a silent promise to do everything in our power to never make the other doubt our worth or regret that fateful day we had met.

"So do I," she whispered, her voice almost too low for me to hear. "So do I."

**AN: It got a little wordy at the end. Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: Now that Edward is getting a better read on Isa's body language and daily**  
**emotions, will he increase the length of playtime by extending scenes to last**  
**throughout the day, testing her ability to trust him?**  
**A: I will take it down that route, but they still need a bit more confidence in this part of their relationship, and some disclosure on certain subjects that have yet to be broached. They also need to realize just how much they need this time together to release their desires and needs.**

**Q: So will his brothers be supportive of his relationship with Isa?**  
**A: This chapter pretty much answered this question. They are just happy that he has a girlfriend, but you'll get more on their feelings at the Brunch.**

**Q: Will they attend any party with other Daddies and their little girls at some point?**  
**A:Yes, they should, but as I said in question one, they still need to build on what they have first before they are confident enough to expand.**

**Q: You mentioned that you lived in Israel. Are you not American?**  
**A: Ha, no, I'm British, but I have lived in Israel for a couple of years now and everyone here speaks American English *pouts* I'm forgetting the Queen's English.**


	12. Chapter 12

**_A Pale Fire_**

**_Chapter 12_**

**AN: Hey guys...miss me? The last month has been crazy with my sister's wedding and about sixteen people staying at my house at one point, but I'm back. Unfortunately, I will not be able to post weekly anymore. *pouts* but every two weeks you'll get a chapter. Thanks to darcysmom and torisufergirl from PTB for betaing this baby for me.**

**Playlist:**

**Everybody talks by Neon Trees**  
**Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys**  
**A Thousand Years part 2 by Christina Perry (feat. Steve Kazee)**  
**Radioactive by Imagine Dragons**

**...**

I stood on the curb, one hand wrapping around the strap of my messenger bag as I glanced up at the dark grey clouds rolling in, a light sprinkle of rain already starting to fall.

The building before me was nondescript, the faded brick and darkened windows didn't stand out against the buildings on either side of it, but I knew how different it was on the inside.

The elegant gold cursive writing above the front spelled out La Petite Morte, meaning the little death when translated from French. The term was used to describe an orgasm, which led me to believe that the French must have been doing something right to want to name an orgasm that.

My steps held a slight note of trepidation as I moved toward the black door, the golden doorknob shining like a beacon, beckoning me forth. If you had asked me six months ago if I would go into an adult store, I would have probably said no, because before Isa, the things that I needed for sex would not be in one of these stores. Not that this was just any old adult store, no, it was an exclusive BDSM store that you needed to have a recommendation in order to enter.

Thanks to the friends I had made over the years over our shared love of art, I managed to obtain one from a dominant, Michael, who I had become acquainted with over time, and who had no qualms in helping me when I called to ask for guidance. I'd explained my reluctance in the use of implements, and he suggested that I come to this store, where he said I would find the necessary accessories and guidance to help with my lingering issues on S and M.

I had talked to Isa about it, and she had agreed that I should go and at least look around. It wasn't as though I was given a chance like this everyday to enter into an exclusive store that catered to for my particular needs.

I pressed the button for the intercom by the door, my palms feeling a little sweaty despite the cool wind whipping around my body.

"Password?" a gruff voice crackled through the intercom, and I licked my suddenly dry lips.

"Folie a deux," I answered, my heart beating unsteadily. I was met with complete silence for what felt like an eternity before the door buzzed and unlocked. The entryway was dimly lit as I stepped inside, the click of the door behind me almost sounded ominous.

A large man with tattoo sleeves peeking out of his pushed up shirt sleeves, his muscles bulging menacingly, walked toward me, his face grim.

"Recommendation?" he grunted, holding out his hand. I fumbled with my bag, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead as I rummaged in it, finally finding it in the side pocket. I offered it to him, my hands practically shaking as I tried to swallow back my nerves. He gazed at the slip of paper stoically, his eyes running over it intently as he read it then flipped it over before grunting and giving it back to me.

"Follow me," he ordered, barely giving me time to exhale the breath I had been holding, before he turned and strode away.

I tried to distract myself with the decor as I hurried to catch up with him. I had been expecting black and redl with leather and maybe velvet, but the place was surprising open and welcoming. There was a faint scent of rose water and jasmine lingering in the air as he led me out of the entryway and into a spacious waiting room. Colorful beads and pillows were scattered around as silks draped over the walls and lamps, giving the room a mystic and sensual vibe. Pale, wooden floors covered by thick, plush carpets gave it an almost homey feeling. If it weren't for the fact that there were no couches, only strategically placed stuffed armchairs with large pillows big enough for, lets say a sub, to sit on set at the feet of each chair, then it would almost seem like an everyday living room.

"Wait here," Muscles instructed before disappearing through a door. I settled myself down on a nearby stuffed chair, feeling like a child about to meet with the principal after having been naughty.

I let my eyes close momentarily as I sucked in a deep breath before releasing it. I let the calming images of Isa, as my little Princess, flicker to the forefront of my mind, remembering her submission and trying to dig out the confidence it instilled in me. I felt my shoulders straighten and my mind clear, letting the familiar feeling of control relax me.

"I am sorry if I kept you waiting long. Felix most likely did not give you the warmest of welcomes. He can be a little unnerving at times, but he is…how you say? Ah, as sweet as a teddy bear at heart," the woman said as she swept into the room in a blur of color.

She wore a bright purple dress that fell to her feet and tied around her neck, the belt at her waist cinched in the fabric, complementing her curves. Each step she took made the copious bangles on her wrists jingle and the large jeweled earrings in her ears bounce. Her dark blonde hair was pulled and twisted up into a neat bun with a gold headband running across her forehead that made her look as though she belonged in the seventies rather than the present time. Her dark ruby lips were pulled up in a beguiling smirk and her glinting eyes told me that she would fit just as well in leather holding a crop as she did in her current attire.

I rose to my feet, brushing my damp palms over my pants to rid them of any sweat, forcing myself not to be intimidated. My eyes met hers as confidently as I was able, and she raised an elegant eyebrow in response, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"I am Madame Rosa," she introduced, the faint European lilt in her voice telling me that despite her fluency she was not American, "and I will be giving you a guided tour of my humble establishment."

"I'm Edward," I told her, holding out my hand.

"Of course you are," she answered, ignoring my hand completely. She spun around and started walking, assuming that I would follow, but I was still trying to figure out why she had spoken as though my name was the most obvious thing in the world. "Michael mentioned you would be coming today. He said that you were new to the lifestyle, is he correct?"

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and nodded, tentatively following her as she moved gracefully across the room. "Uh, yeah. My girlfriend and I recently discovered a mutual need for a D/s type of dynamic in certain aspects of our relationship," I explained.

"Lovely, lovely. You must bring her with you next time. Now, tell me, where do your tastes lie?"

She pulled a key from a pocket hidden in the folds of her dress and reached to open the door before her.

"Age play?" I asked rather than told her.

She turned around and gave me a look of reproach. "Are you asking me or telling me?" she queried, her bangles jingling as she stepped toward me, her hands flitting impatiently over my body. "Stand tall and firm, and keep your back straight. You are a dominant, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then you must act like one. How can a woman submit to a man who is unsure and slouches?" she chastised.

I stood to my full height, my eyes narrowing into slits as I regarded her once again, this time with a hint of annoyance. Criticism and I had always held a strained relationship, the intimidation I had once felt evaporating as I towered over her.

"Much better!" She praised. "You must be in control, feel in control, no matter the situation. Your sub will look to you, her Master, for guidance, so you must be ready to assert yourself in every scenario. The things that you must always remember is that a dominant completes, but never tries to alter. He must be able to see what is there, not what is missing, He receives, but never takes, commands respect, but never fear, has pride, but never arrogance. If a dominant is the center of his submissive's world, it is only because she thinks so, not because he does. No one is respected, let alone obeyed, just because. You must nurtures, shape, and mold your submissive into the image you think she should become, but you must also be attuned to her needs and place them above your own as she will do for you. Now, tell me again, and this time assert yourself: where do your tastes lie?"

"Age play," I told her smoothly. "I'm a Daddy."

"Oh, how delightful!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together in excitement, her disposition softening, and the sternness in her expression dropping from her as she replaced it with a wide smile. "Is she in a certain age group?"

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, feeling my stubble prick at my fingers. "Somewhere between nine and twelve."

"Very good. You know, with a little bit of training we could make a great Dominant out of you," she commented. "It takes more than charisma and confidence to be a good Dom."

I nodded in agreement. I had previously thought about that, but I needed to find a mentor that wouldn't expect more than I could give. There was no way I would ever step out on Isa in any form, and I had yet to find someone that could cater to those needs.

Madame Rosa unlocked the door before us and opened it up to reveal an elevator. She ushered me in, closing the door behind us, before pressing the button for the next floor.

"I'm in a monogamous relationship, and the act of dominating and submitting is very intimate for both me and my girlfriend. I've yet to find someone who isn't so…hands on in their training," I explained, picking up the conversation from we had left off as the elevator made its way up to the next floor.

"That is understandable. You truly only need the core basics. Anything more and you become the Dom your mentor is, not the Dom you want to be. Like anything, the learning process is basically trial and error. Balancing a vanilla relationship with a D/s relationship does provide a challenge in obtaining the training you need, but, it is not impossible to find a Dominant willing to train both of you purely by demonstration and observation."

Her words gave me hope, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was one of those such Dominant. We stepped out on the second floor to the shop level. She led me through aisles of toys that made me both balk and shiver with excitement. There was no way, with my heightened feelings from being placed in that certain frame of mind where I craved full control and ownership, that I could control the way my cock reacted at the displays before me. Possessive need curled in my stomach as I turned the corner to find the Age Play section, and I licked my lips lasciviously.

I was thankful that Madame Rosa stood back and let me explore on my own. I fingered the rubber ball of a ball gag, imagining Isa's mouth wrapped around it, her screams muffled as a trail of saliva dripped down her chin. There were cuffs, ropes, blindfolds, jeweled anal plugs, pink dildos and vibrators.

I was holding up nipple clamps, trying to figure out how the little torture devices worked when Madame Rosa stepped in.

"I think, and forgive me if I'm overstepping, that you would prefer something a little more domestic. In the beginning, every new toy seems somewhat overwhelming and frightening, so I think that instead of clamps, you might prefer pegs."

She showed me some specialized wooden and metal pegs, which I had to admit were a lot less daunting than the clamps.

"And a good alternative to paddles are hair brushes, rulers and wooden spoons, but be warned that if she has a history of abuse, those things can be more frightening than a flogger. The same goes with using your belt. These are things she can overcome with your careful guidance, but they could be hard limits for her."

I listened intently, storing all the new information in my brain for future reference.

"Have you collared her?" she asked.

I gazed at her blankly for a moment before answering. "No, I read that there is supposed to be some sort of ceremony for collaring, and I'm not sure if either of us are ready to take it that far."

"Ah, you're speaking of the ceremony where a contracted sub binds herself to a Master with vows and such, which I suppose you could do, but I was referring more to the fact by giving her a collar, your collar, that it would make it easier for the both of you to differentiate the times when you're playing or not. Even in scene, a collar can ground your sub when she feels unsure or uncomfortable by reminding her of her place and who she belongs to. It's a tangible form of possession and ownership, and in the event you meet with another Dominant, it's a clear sign that she is claimed and off-limits."

I honestly hadn't thought of it that way, but hearing her say it made it seem a lot more important than I had originally thought.

"What kinds do you have?" I asked.

She gave me a smile and led me to another part of the store, unlocking a large cabinet to reveal necklaces, bracelets and collars of every size, color, and material.

"As you can see, we have a large variety of collars. I would suggest something like this for playtime," she suggested, pulling out a simple thick black leather collar with a D-ring. "And maybe something like this to have when you take her out in a vanilla setting but you are still playing."

She held out a tray of assorted bracelets from leather cuffs to elegant gold bands with diamonds. The one thing that they all had in common was a delicate ring that was easily able to be hidden.

"They all come with a leashes," she added.

"Leashes?" A part of me startled in surprise at her words, but the other, more dominant part was already imagining Isa on her hands and knees, collar on, as I led her around. Madame Rosa didn't hesitate to open a drawer full of them, and helped me pick out two that matched the collar I chose a simple light pink leather collar with a heart-shaped padlock and for the bracelet I chose a thin gold band with a gold bow.

I spent hours going through everything Madame Rosa's store had to offer. She stressed how important it was to pick out toys that worked for the specific person, not just the general population, and gave the desired results. Sometimes experimenting was the key to figuring those things out, and with that philosophy I ended up buying enough stuff to start my own store with. I was thankful that the store did deliveries because there was no way I could drag all of it home with me.

I left with promises to bring Isa with me the next time I came, aroused and overwhelmed, but incredibly happy with my findings. Madame Rosa gave me the exclusive card needed for me to have unlimited access to the store, though I would still have to make an appointment to get in as they had a large client list in the city and the surrounding states.

I hailed a cab outside, giving the driver my address as I slid inside and out of the rain. I checked my phone, knowing that I was cutting it close in terms of meeting Isa on time. I knew that she'd had shopping plans with her friends today and since she would be in my neck of the woods, she promised to stop by. I was excited to talk to her about some of the things I had bought, a few of which I had stored in my bag to show her.

I was late by the time I got through the midday traffic, the rain making everyone drive like assholes. I threw a couple of bills at the driver when he pulled over outside of my building and got out. I ducked my head against the rain and squinted as I tried see through the heavy downpour.

I smiled as the back door of the cab in front of mine opened and Isa stepped out, raising a black umbrella over her head to shield her body and the bags from her shopping trip that she was juggling. She wore black skinny jeans that clung to her lower half almost indecently with heeled, black leather boots. The theme of her clothes seemed to match the weather because she wore a black leather jacket making her dress head to toe in black with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

We both made a dash for my building, the doorman opening the door in time for us to slip inside quickly. I laughed as Isa struggled with her umbrella, shaking water everywhere as she closed it. I took her bags in an effort to help her, surprised at just how many and how heavy they were.

She snuggled up against my side after we'd stepped into the elevator, and I punched the button for my floor before enveloping her tightly in my grip. Her lips curled up into a smile and her dimples peeked out as her eyes danced with their familiar mischief. She bounced up onto the balls of her feet as she reached for me, sliding her hands around my body and into my back pockets, squeezing my ass while pulling my body flush against hers. Her head tilted, droplets of water attached to her eyelashes as she gazed at me from beneath them. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, making her look younger, and I stroked my thumb over one before cupping it and guiding our mouths together.

Her lips coaxed my own into a slow, deliberate kiss that had lust and passion laced into it. Still high from the activities of the morning, I took control of the kiss, pushing her back against the wall of the elevator and prising her lips open with my own before plunging my tongue into the sweet cavern of her mouth. We moaned simultaneously as our tongues tangled and our heads tilted to accommodate the depth of the kiss. I sucked her tongue into my mouth, tasting sweet cranberries and a faint hint of alcohol. She was putty in my hands as her body melted into me, a needy whimper straining past her lips.

I barely remembered to get off on my floor, the elevator doors already starting to close by the time I pulled back for air.

"How was your day?" I asked casually, like I hadn't just assaulted her mouth with my own as we stepped off and started down the hall. I fished my keys out of my bag, slipping the right one into my apartment door and unlocked it as she leant against the doorjamb, watching me. Her cheeks were flushed with arousal and her lids drooped as she rolled her swollen, bottom lip back and forth.

"A lot better now," she mumbled, pushing off the doorjamb as I hooked a finger through one of her belt loops and guided her backward into my apartment.

I cursed internally when the familiar sound of classical music and clanking dishes coming from the kitchen reached my ears as I shut the door behind us. As much as I would have loved to follow through my plan to pin her against the door and fuck her, I doubted Carlisle would appreciate the visual.

I tossed my keys in the bowl by the door and toed my shoes off before shrugging out of my wet jacket. Isa placed her umbrella by the door and removed her jacket to reveal a plain, white, long-sleeved henley.

I noticed him standing in the kitchen entryway, cleaning his hands on a dishtowel as I walked backward through the living room, my fingers in her belt loops as she followed, her back to him. He quirked an eyebrow and nodded purposefully toward Isa, questions apparent in his gaze. I knew he wanted to meet her, but I was feeling selfish. I mouthed "later" at him, causing him to do something un-Carlisle like and roll his eyes. I let a chuckle escape, and Isa turned to see what I had been laughing at, only catching a glimpse of Carlisle as he disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Hey, was that—" she started, but I cut her off with my mouth. She gave a squeak of surprise, but didn't fight me as I pulled her into my room, closing the door behind us.

"Later," I placated her.

She bit down on her bottom lip and slipped out of my grip, dropping her shopping on the floor before strolling over to my bed and plopping down on the edge to remove her shoes.

She kicked off her heeled boots, wiggling her bare toes before sprawling back across my bed with a sigh of relief. I had never quite understood women's fixations with heels, especially when I could see the discomfort they could create.

"Why do you wear heels if they're so uncomfortable?" I asked, crouching down in front of her and grasping one of her delicate ankles in my hands. She had beautiful, delicate feet, their size no more than a thirty-eight and well proportioned to the rest of her body.

"Because they make my legs look good and they increase my meager height," she explained, humming in appreciation as I started massaging her ankle, kneading the flesh expertly.

"If you want a job, I would totally hire you as my personal foot masseuse," she groaned out, pushing herself up on her elbows to watch me. "I'd pay you."

I chuckled at the seriousness of her tone and dug my fingers into the arch of her foot, rubbing it. Her eyelids fluttered closed briefly and she sighed in contentedly, wiggling slightly as she made herself more comfortable. My fingers continued their ministrations, the pads of my fingers pushing into the skin on the ball of her foot.

"God, how are you so good at this?" Isa groaned, pushing her foot further into my hands.

"I guess you could say that I have something of a foot fetish. I've always liked women's feet, so it isn't as though I ever declined the opportunity to touch them, innocent or otherwise," I admitted.

"So you, what, get off on women's feet?" she asked curiously, peering down at me from under heavy lids.

There wasn't an easy way to describe my fascination with feet, and while it was generally easy to ignore, Isa happened to have small, cute, soft, manicured feet that spoke of great care. I wouldn't have described my love of women's feet as sexual, so much as I found it erotic.

I met her gaze as I cupped her heel and brought her foot up to my mouth. I dragged my lips along the base from her heel to her toes.

"It isn't so much that I get off on it as much as I find them erotic," I explained. "And you just happen to have a beautiful pair of feet."

I didn't give her a chance to respond as I sucked her big toe into my mouth. I could faintly taste the leather of her shoe against her skin as I stroked my tongue up and down along the underside before swirling it around the tip.

Isa gasped, her face flushing with arousal and her lips falling slack as she sunk further into the bed. Her chest heaved through her thin shirt as my fingers kneaded the arch of her heel, applying pressure to her muscles. I nibbled gently on the side of it, causing her to jerk and squeak in surprise. I chuckled against her skin, unable to hide the mirth in my eyes as they met hers.

I pulled back, kissing her dainty little toes and watching them wiggle and curl in response as Isa giggled. "That tickles," she murmured breathlessly as the underside of her foot rubbed against my five o'clock shadow.

"You know, feet are one of the most overlooked erogenous zones on the body," I told her.

She hummed in acknowledgement, too caught up in the way I was placing warm, wet, open-mouthed kisses along the side of her foot to answer verbally. I loved seeing her this way, her eyes heavy-lidded and so dark with want as her pale skin flushed a dusty pink. Her pearly teeth nibbled at the flesh of her plump lip as I bent her knee.

I sucked the protruding bone at her ankle in my mouth, enveloping it in wet heat as I laved it with attention.

"Do you want to know one the things I love most about feet?" I asked rhetorically. "When they dig into my ass while I fuck."

Her breath hitched, and she squirmed in arousal as I pulled away, I turned to give the other foot the same treatment as the first.

By the time I was done, she was panting and keening. Even through the thick fabric of her jeans I could see her toned thighs trembling and clenching together as her head lolled back. Her eyes were shut and her thick lashes curled up, casting shadows against her flushed cheeks. I couldn't help but feel smug at what I had managed to do to her with just my mouth on her feet.

"You know, I think I can name that as the most interesting sexual experience of my life," she commented offhandedly, her breathing still ragged.

I paused, glancing up at her from where I was poised. Our eyes met, hers smoldering under heavy lids, and a jolt of triumph mixed with possessiveness reared up inside me. She shivered, her pink tongue darting out from between her lips to slide along her lips, leaving a light sheen of saliva behind. Her teeth sank into the corner of her lip as she pushed herself up. Her eyes flickered away from mine momentarily and a stuttering sigh escaped her.

She sat up, need and vulnerability shining in her eyes as she reached for me. I cocked my head, staring at her intently, trying to see where her change in demeanor had sprung from.

It took me a moment to realize why she was acting shy and unsure, the niggling in the back of my mind telling me that she was partially in her little girl space. I wasn't sure if she even realized it, and I figured I had been projecting my feelings onto her, my morning with Madame Rosa still lingering and leading me.

I stood up, planting one of my knees between her legs and placed my hands on either side of her, my eyes staring intently into hers. She squirmed, her gaze flickering away only to return moments later. I raised a hand pressing it into her sternum and applied pressure to it. She fell back against the covers, and I pushed the hem of her shirt up over her stomach. Her muscles were tense and quivering as I skimmed my hand over her bare skin, coaxing her trigger out as my touch became firmer and more solid.

I pulled both of her hands above her head, pinning them there with my free hand. My lips ghosted along her jaw, the whisper of a lullaby vibrating through me and into her as she whimpered and keened. Her eyes were shut and her lips were parted, but she didn't fight me, instead, she let the feelings her triggers created inside wash over her.

The fact that my previous ministrations on her feet had left her aroused and wanting only added to the ease in which she slipped into her space. I felt her muscles slowly relax as a gush of air escaped her. It took a lot less time and effort than it had in the past to get her where she needed to be. Now that she had done this a few times, she knew that there wasn't anything to fear by letting go, and she embraced the shift in her.

She blinked slowly as her lids peeled back, the molten chocolate of her eyes meeting mine shyly. She wet her lips and swallowed before opening her mouth.

"Daddy?" she breathed.

"I'm right here, Princess," I murmured, releasing my grip on her wrists and pulling back.

I watched as she acclimated herself to her role, allowing her mind the time it needed to sink fully.

"Can I...do you want to see what I bought today?" she asked softly.

"Of course," I murmured, moving to stand. I grazed my lips against her forehead before I fully released her, allowing her to hop off the bed and collect her bags. She ducked into the bathroom adjoining my room, closing the door behind her.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, thinking about where I wanted to take this as I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees. I was starting to notice that this need that had began slowly and tentatively was building, expanding, and becoming more of a focal part of our relationship. The deeper we delved, the more it consumed us, dragging us closer and closer to the point where there would be no turning back.

This was the first time we had let our instincts lead us into an impromptu scene, but something told me that it wouldn't be the last.

I almost groaned when she came out ten minutes later in a pale yellow, lace sundress that barely reached mid-thigh. A series of buttons ran down the front, the tight bodice straining against her breasts as the swells peeked enticingly out of the neckline. Her hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, framing her face as she twirled around so that her already short dress lifted up, grazing her upper thighs and giving me a glimpse of white panties.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"It's beautiful, Princess," I told her.

She skipped over to me, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dancing with excitement. "I got something else too," she said, lowering her voice to whisper conspiratorially. I could see the mischief in her cheeky smile, and I couldn't help but be curious as to what she was up to.

"Oh?" I asked. "And what might that be?"

She turned around, her hands grasping the hem of her dress. She teased me, easing it up slowly until her little, ruffled panties came into view. The full cheeks of her ass were practically falling out of the fabric, the panties slipping up between them to give me quite a view. I reached, dragging the pads of my fingers up the inseam of her thighs, feeling them tremble as she spread her thighs wider unconsciously. She pushed her ass further into my hand as I stroked the curve, bending partially at the waist, giving me a glimpse of pink, puffy lips through the damp fabric covering her crotch.

I pressed two fingers against the crotch, rubbing in a slow rhythm that made her squirm and moan. "Did you buy these for me?" I asked, feeling the wetness and the heat seep through the material.

"Yes," she whimpered, bucking her hips. I withdrew my hands, giving her a firm spank on her ass, causing her to squeal while her cheek jiggled.

"Yes, what?" I questioned.

"Yes, Daddy," she moaned.

"Such a dirty girl, spoiling your panties like this," I murmured, grasping the waistband and tugging them down her thighs until they pooled at her feet. She clenched her thighs together, trying to gain friction, but a swift spank put a stop to that kind of behavior. "Keep those thighs apart," I ordered.

She tried to move away, but I grabbed her arm, keeping her from going anywhere. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"I need new panties," she explained, slightly perplexed.

"Little girls who spoil their panties don't get to wear any. You're just going to have to go without."

She twisted around to face me, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "But, Daddy, my kitty's dripping," she mumbled self-consciously.

"Let's see." I lifted the front of her dress, my cock swelling and throbbing at the sight of her pussy. It pouted down below her navel, plump and slick, the swollen lips reminiscent to a ripe fruit slit open and dripping with juices. I was surprised to see that the little dusting of hair that had once covered it was missing, leaving her completely bare and pink. It was obvious that my earlier teasing had left her on the edge, desperately seeking relief, and I relished this chance to tease her further.

"Go stand in the corner," I instructed, dropping the front of her dress.

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?" I asked rhetorically.

She opened her mouth, poised to argue, but the look on my face was enough for her to snap it back closed and do as she was told. She shuffled across the room, dragging her feet and huffing as she stood in the corner, bouncing from one foot to the other.

I came up behind her, frowning at her slumped shoulders and general bad posture.

"Stand up straight. I want your nose against the wall, your arms behind your back, and unless you want a spanking, I'd also quit fidgeting."

She reacted to my tone just as I hoped she would, snapping into action, eager to please me. I lifted the back of her skirt up fully and ordered her to fold her arms behind her back, effectively keeping it pinned up.

My hand came down on her ass with a smack, the noise seeming to resound in the room. My fingers tingled from the force and a surge of exhilaration ran through me as my cock jerked.

"I thought I told you to keep those legs apart?" I hissed, yanking them away from each other.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she panted out. She keened softly, arching up into my touch as I delved fingers between her legs, impaling her with them. It quickly shifted into a pained whine when my other hand came down on her ass.

"I want you to keep absolutely still, and I don't want to hear a peep from between those lips, understood?" I growled.

She nodded frantically, smooshing her lips together to keep herself from speaking.

"Good girl. Oh, and don't even think about cumming."

I reached around her, fumbling with the buttons on the bodice until her breasts were freed. She suppressed a hiss as I tweaked her nipple roughly, feeling it constrict further under my harsh treatment.

I thrust my fingers in and out of her, twisting and curling them as I fucked her with them, while my other hand groped and teased her breasts. I could see the toll her forced paralysis was having on her, a light sheen of sweat covering her body as quivers trembled through her body.

Strained puffs of breath left her as she tried to quell the need to cry out, the tension radiating from her body in response was palpable. Her knuckles were white from clenching so hard, and I wasn't sure how long it would take her to slip, but that outcome seemed inevitable.

I had to hand it to her, she lasted longer than I expected her to. It was a well aimed twist of my fingers brushing against her G-spot that broke her. Her knees buckled and a cry of ecstasy forced its way from her throat, hoarse and needy as it drifted to a pained sob. The denial of having the freedom to orgasm was weighing heavily on her, the shaking of her thighs becoming more prominent as I took her to the edge only draw her back before repeating the cycle.

My hand left her breasts, quick to reprimand her for her faux pas. I assumed that the mix of pleasure and pain as I fingered her and spanked her at the same time was dizzying, the way her body swayed and her head lolled to show glazed eyes reminiscent of someone that had ingested some sort of hallucinogenic.

I alternated the spanks between the cheeks until the blood pooled to the surface, giving it a nice pink glow. Without any of the preconceived notions that had once plagued me holding me back, I spanked her hard, the feel of her squirming, and hearing her suppressed whimpers, only encouraging me to be harsher.

I could see that it took everything in her not to protest when I removed my hand from inside of her, leaving her on the cusp of an orgasm. I dragged my slick fingers through the crack of her ass, rubbing gentle circles into her little rosebud as her breathing stuttered and another wave of tension surged through her.

"Shhh," I murmured, raising the hand that I had been using to spank her with to the back of her neck, stroking and caressing it as I shifted my stance for a better angle. I wormed a finger inside of her carefully, pushing in a little until I felt resistance before backing up and then thrusting in further. It was a slow rhythm that required me to gather more lubrication from her pussy before I could add another finger.

I had her trapped, face against the wall and arms folded behind her back, with me between her only exit. My grip tightened on the back of her neck, making it impossible for her to move it as I slid a leg between hers, forcing them further apart as I fucked her ass gently with my fingers, scissoring them as I stretched her. My trip to Madame Rosa's shop had cemented my plan to start preparing her ass for bigger things, and while I knew that it would be awhile before she was ready to take my cock, I had bought an assortment of different plugs, all ranging in different sizes.

"Keep still," I hissed in warning when she tentatively pushed back against my hand. She was much more comfortable than the first time I had done this, making no attempt to fight the invasion of my fingers. "What color are you?" I asked.

"Green," she confirmed breathlessly.

"Good girl," I praised, feeling her shudder at my words. "You like Daddy's fingers in your ass, don't you?"

She bobbed her head up and down, still conscious of the fact that I hadn't given her permission to speak.

My lips were at her ear as I spoke, my words goading. "And you want to cum so badly, don't you?"

She nodded again, her eyes squeezed shut tightly. I knew that it wouldn't be long before her body gave into its need, which is why my next words would be her greatest challenge yet.

"I'm going to remove my hands, and you are going to straighten your appearance. You will not touch yourself, and you will not cum until I say so. You may also have your voice back. You may go."

I stepped back, out of her way, my eyes never leaving her as my words registered. She seemed dazed as she turned around, her lids blinking rapidly as she tried to gather herself. Her hands were trembling as she buttoned the bodice of her dress and smoothed down the front and back until she looked as acceptable as someone with sex hair and an expression of pure sexual need could.

There was a certain amount of power that came with possessing her, and I couldn't deny that it was a heady feeling. I no longer tried to shy away from the true nature of who I was, and what that meant as her Daddy. Each time we played, I could feel my confidence build, and the assurance of knowing that this was exactly what she'd craved for years, but had been too scared to vocalize, gave me the needed boost to take control.

"Daddy, may I go the bathroom?" she requested shyly.

I smiled, pleased that she had asked permission instead of assuming she could. "You may."

When we were scening, every thought and decision belonged to me. She was to look to me for even the basic directions. Part of letting go meant relinquishing all power to whatever whim I held. I could deny her any want or need, if I so chose—within reason—and she wouldn't be able to protest. It would take a while before she trusted me enough not to question some of my commands and simply obeyed them, knowing that I would never purposefully place her in harm's way. When she reached the point of total dependence was when she fully accepted her place below me.

Did I believe that a woman's place, in general, was below a man? No, I didn't. Isa, when not tucked inside her space was the epitome of a self-sufficient, modern woman. If I ordered her around then, she'd put me in my place, which was beside her, not over her. We were equals in that aspect and dynamic of our relationship, and I enjoyed the challenge she constantly presented me.

Isa was no wallflower. She was outspoken and opinionated. She was passionate and unafraid with a free spirit that I hoped was never tamed. I never felt like I had to impress her continually to keep her interested, and she didn't play games or use passive-aggressive anger to force me to guess how she felt. If she wanted attention, she'd ask for it, bluntly proclaiming her need for it. I hadn't been joking when I told Isa's friend, Jasper, that she usually wore the pants in our relationship, and I was okay with that.

That didn't mean that I suddenly turned into a quiet, unassuming man content to sit in the background while she held the reins—the very thought of it made me cringe. It meant that there was a push and pull in our relationship. She pushed and I pulled until we both found an equal footing that worked to drive our relationship forward.

I didn't think that she expected me to follow her into the bathroom after I had allowed her to go, and she gazed at me curiously, obviously wondering what my angle was. I folded my arms across my chest and quirked an eyebrow, waiting, as she hesitated and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

When she saw that I wasn't leaving, she let out a long breath and lifted the skirt of her dress and sat down in the toilet.

"Wait," I ordered. I advanced, not stopping until my legs stood on either side of hers. I grasped her chin, coaxing her face up so that our gazes met. My thumb stroked over her cheek as I stood silently, watching her with an intensity that stripped away layers of skin, leaving her at her most vulnerable. "Go."

Her eyes widened minutely at the implications of my words, her teeth gnawing at the corner of lip. I tugged her lip free, not wanting her to draw blood, and her eyes closed as she released a gust of air and let go.

I wondered how daunting it must be for her to have me here, right in her personal space, as she relieved herself. I backed up, drawing my hand away from her cheek before leaving the bathroom momentarily to grab what I needed from my bag. I may not have been able to bring everything I had bought back home, but that didn't I hadn't taken one or two items I had hoped to experiment with.

I set everything I needed on my bedside table before walking back into the bathroom. She was still sitting on the toilet, her gaze darting from toilet roll to the doorway. She seemed relieved to see me, and she gestured to the toilet roll, too embarrassed to vocalize her need.

On one hand, I was pleased that since she was unsure as to whether or not she could wipe herself, she had waited, but on the other, I was feeling a little…sadistic, if you will.

"If you need something, you may ask for it," I told her evenly, not giving her an inch.

Her expression turned resigned, realizing that I wasn't planning on going easy on her. "Daddy," she started, her lips twisting in the awkwardness of what she was about to ask and her cheeks pinkening. "Can I…may I please wipe myself?"

I pretended to think it over, rubbing my chin thoughtfully before nodding. "Yes. Come into the bedroom after you're done. I want you bent over the edge of my bed."

With that, I turned and left the room, slipping out of my bedroom, making sure the door was closed firmly behind me. The apartment was quiet, leading me to believe that Carlisle had left to give us some privacy. My feet were silent as they moved down the hall until I reached the laundry closet. I opened the door and snagged two soft, clean towels before walking back to my room.

The door shut with a click behind, but I barely registered it as my eyes fell on Isa bent over my bed, her ass in the air. I was sure that she had seen what I had in store for her, but while there was tension in her posture, she wasn't stiff or fidgety.

"What color are you?" I asked, moving to gather my supplies.

"Green," she answered, her tone steady and confident. Our eyes met as I held up the small, jeweled plug, stroking my fingers over the metal, tear-shaped body.

"You're going to look so pretty with this in, Princess." Her pupils dilated and her breathing seemed to cease altogether. She crossed her arms in front of her, resting her cheek on them so she could watch me as I walked toward her.

I kneeled behind her, skimming my lips over her shoulder as my hands bunched her dress up around her waist. She shivered and let out a shuddering breath as her eyes fell closed, and she pressed back into me, seeking an anchor.

"Open yourself up for me, Princess. Let Daddy see your cute, little ass."

Her hands trembled as she reached behind her, her body shifting into a more comfortable position as she spread her cheeks for me, baring herself intimately. I probably shouldn't have been surprised at how well groomed she was, the hair between her cheeks waxed, but I had a bad habit of underestimating her.

I opened the bottle of lube—silicon based as was recommended for anal—and drizzled a good amount on my fingers before pressing it against her back entrance. She was still slightly stretched from before making it easy to work two fingers inside. Her breaths came out in uneven pants, and I could feel her clench around me, squeezing my fingers tightly.

I placed my other hand on the back of her neck, simultaneously holding her upper half down and keeping her grounded. My fingers dug into her soft flesh, the bite of my nails reminding her of my presence as she sank deeper and deeper. The thought of leaving faint bruises on her skin for others to see only served to heighten my arousal.

She whimpered pitifully as I added a third finger, and I shushed her, whispering words of encouragement lowly in her ear. It took awhile before I thought she was ready to take more, glad that I had started with a small plug with forest green jewel at the head.

I released her neck as I removed my other hand, wiping it clean on one of the towels before taking more lube and covering the plug in it. I could feel the resistance as I began to press it inside her body, my preparation only able to help so much when the plug was so unrelenting.

"What color are you?" I asked as a pained whine escaped her. Her whole body trembled, and though I could tell she was trying to stay relaxed, her muscles were fighting against the intrusion.

"Green," she hissed, her eyes slammed shut tightly. I stopped my advance immediately, my eyes taking in her body language, trying to decipher the sincerity of the answer.

"Are you sure?" I asked. As much as I wanted to push her boundaries, I wouldn't be able to have her fully comfortable with anal if she associated it with pain.

She was sweating and quivering as she peeled back her lids to show me pure, unveiled lust shining in her eyes. I was bowled over knowing that what I had mistaken for pain had, in fact, been pleasure. She was enjoying this, the pain and all.

"Please, Daddy. I want to feel it in my ass," she begged. Her back arched, and she didn't attempt to try and muffle the cry that left her as I carefully pressed more of the plug into her, the widest part of it poised at her entrance.

"Take a deep breath for me," I instructed her. She obeyed, sucking in a lungful of air as I eased the last part in. A strangled noise somewhere between a mewl and a moan ripped from her throat as the jeweled head settled at the entrance of her ass.

"Such a good girl, taking all of it in like that," I cooed as she slumped against the mattress, breathing like she had just run a marathon. The sight of her with the plug in was my undoing, and I stood, unbuttoning my pants before shoving them down my thighs. I pulled my cock out of my boxers, fisting it tightly. My strokes were quick, the residual lubricant in my hand making each firm tug smooth as I chased after my orgasm.

I cupped my balls, fondling them as I expertly twisted my fist at the head, milking pre-cum from the slit. It only took me a few minutes before I reached the edge, my balls lifting and tightening as a surge of heat went through me. I threw my head back, a guttural groan fresh on my lips as I aimed for her ass and lower back. I painted her skin with my cum, the pearly fluid dripping and coating more of her in my scent and my seed.

After a few moments, I grudgingly cleaned my cum off her body with one of the towels before dipping my hand between her thighs to find her overflowing. My fingers slipped easily inside her pussy, her walls hugging them greedily, long past due for relief.

"You wanna cum, Princess?" I asked.

"Please, Daddy!" she practically sobbed.

"Then cum," I demanded, rubbing my thumb across her engorged clit. Her whole body stiffened, and her breathing ceased, before tremors started to roll down her spine and her thighs quivered.  
She buried her face in the sheets, her loud cries and moans muffled as her hips slammed down on my hand, riding out her orgasm. A gush of arousal squirted from her, coating my hand in her essence as she ejaculated, the teasing combined with the denial and the plug taking her to new heights.

Just when I thought she was done, another wave of pleasure washed over her, sending her off on another orgasm. She was understandably exhausted by the time it was over, her body laying bonelessly as I pulled her fully onto the mattress.

"Did I just…" she slurred, her heavy lids peeling back.

"Squirt?" I supplied helpfully.

"Hmmm?" She mumbled, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"You ejaculated," I told her.

"Oh, good. I thought I'd wet myself," she mumbled, letting her eyes fall back closed as I massaged the kinks out of her shoulders. "I've never done that before," she added as an afterthought.

"Really?" Possessive pride reared up inside me, cocky in its victory.

"Uh hmm. It felt weird."

I chuckled,, finding the down twist of her mouth and her scrunched up nose adorable. "I'm sure it did. Now, I need to get you cleaned up and remove that plug," I told her, scooping her up in my arms and cradling her against my chest. She groaned softly, pressing her cheek against my chest.

Strangely enough, I was getting used to maneuvering around with her in my arms, and it wasn't too much of a hardship to get a bath started. She was like a koala, clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping her afloat, her fists clenching in my T-shirt.

"Hands on the sink," I told her softly as I set her on her feet. She whined, none to happy about being detached from me, but braced her arms against the sink. I wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing my body into her side to reiterate that I was not leaving her, especially when she was in such a fragile state. I kissed along the bridge of her shoulder, nipping and sucking the skin as I started massaging the ripe cheeks of her ass.

"That's it," I murmured as the tension slowly worked its way out of her muscles, and her thighs slipped further apart. "Such a good girl."

She buried her face in my neck, whimpering softly as I started to gently extract the plug. It didn't take long to remove, even with her muscles working against me, trying to draw it back in. I placed it in the sink for me to sterilize later and led her toward the bath. I turned the tap off and stripped out of my clothes before guiding us both into the water. She hissed as the hot water hit her raw skin and fell back between my knees, her head lolling against my shoulder.

I knew that it would take awhile before she adapted and drifted back down to earth, so I kept up a steady stream of praise, murmuring into her ear while I used a washcloth to clean the sweat and lube off her body. She looked as though she was sleeping as she rested against me. If it weren't for the way her fingers twitched, skimming along the water and collecting bubbles, I would have believed it was so.

The only time I managed to draw a reaction from her was when I cleaned between her legs, her hiss of pain as she tried to shift away making my chest constrict. I was loathe to hurt her, but aftercare was just as important as playing, and she needed the attention. Once she was clean, I pulled the bath's plug and carried her out, wrapping her in a big, warm, fluffy towel before tucking her in bed. I tugged on some boxers and fetched her a bottle water, which she gulped down eagerly.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked as I crawled into bed beside her.

She shook her head vehemently. "You didn't do anything I didn't want you to. It wasn't so much that it hurt, it was more that feeling every inch of it sitting deep in me, made me feel so full and overwhelmed. It burned, stretching for it, and I won't lie and say that it was all that comfortable, but the end result was so worth it. I've never had multiple orgasms before. I mean, you know how rare it is for me to cum more than once during sex, but it was so intense, having your fingers in my pussy, which was aching for relief, and the plug in my ass. I didn't think it was possible for normal girls like me to even squirt. It always seemed like something you see in porn, not something that actually happens."

"And it wasn't too much?" I pressed.

She shook her head. "Our time together like that is always more than I expect. You coax me further and further, bending and molding me to your will until I find it impossible to do anything but obey, and I love that. I feel so close to you, like I see you in a way no one else does, and that makes it so much more intimate. I loved that you always made sure that I was okay, and, God, when you double-checked on me I thought I would melt. Each time you dominate me, I feel the trust and confidence you instill in me strengthen. You never doubt that I can take what you give me, praising and encouraging me every step of the way, and that makes me feel so...good about myself. It's hard to explain, but it warms me from the inside to know that you have faith in me and my abilities."

"It's what I'm here for," I told her earnestly. "And you do the same for me. If I didn't know that you had some measure of trust and confidence in me, I wouldn't be able to dominate you. I never want to put you in a position where I hurt you or let you hurt yourself, and that kind of responsibility is not taken lightly. Was there anything I did that you didn't like?"

She mulled over my question for a moment before slowly shaking her head. "Not that I can think of. It all seemed to happen so quickly, the way you commanded me and how I reacted to it. What about you?"

I shook my head. "I enjoyed every minute of it. Though, if I had to pick my favorite moment, I think it would be seeing you bent over with my cum on your ass and the plug deep inside you."

"I liked that part too," she admitted with a yawn. "It felt like you were marking me."

Her eyes fluttered shut momentarily before she forced them back open, and I decided that we could finish this conversation after she'd napped.

"Go to sleep," I murmured, brushing the hair off her forehead. "We'll finish talking later."

"Stay with me?" She requested, her eyes already closed as snuggled further beneath the sheets.

"Always," I answered, the very depth of the sincerity of my words startling. I watched for a few moments as she drifted off, wondering how long I could deny my feelings for her before I was forced to realize that I was falling quick and hard.

**AN: what did you guys think? Rosalie as Madame Rosa was fun to write, and we'll be seeing more of her in the future.**

**Side Note: A few of you felt like Edward told his brother's too much about his sex life. I'd like to say that Edward is a guy in a new relationship that he is admittedly excited about. His mouth ran away a little bit with him because (we've all been there where the excitement makes us spill little titbits that maybe we shouldn't), and he trusts his brothers to keep what he said in confidence.**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: Will Edward's family be accepting of Isa and what about Carmen? I always think of Eleazar and Carmen as a bit proper and snobbish...**  
**A: I wouldn't worry too much about all that, but there may be someone who will not like Isa all that much. You'll get your answers next chapter.**

**Q: How much longer before she gets pierced?**  
**A: Two chapters.**

**Q: Why did Edward take a bag to the restaurant? Guys never use bags...**  
**A: Because he brings his art stuff everywhere with him. I mentioned in chapter one that he tended to bring his sketch pad around with him.**

**Q:Are you going to delve a little deeper into Edward's relationship history to**  
**explain the vow of celibacy that his older brother mentioned?**  
**A: I will indeed give you the full story on that in a chapter or two.**

**Q:Now that Isa and Edward have expressed their desires to take their dating to**  
**the level of family introductions, will their commitment to the Daddy/Little**  
**Girl attraction lead them to ask for guidance from a mentor group?**  
**A: This chapter kind of answered this question.**

**Q:Is Edward finally coming to a place in his life where balancing his art with**  
**the connection of a loved one is important?**  
**A: I would like to think so. It's part of the evolution of his life, and you'll see him realizing that as chapters go by.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 13**

**AN: Thanks to TwiLighT7242 from PTB for betaing this for me. Also, thanks for all the reviews!**

Playlist:

Demons by Imagine Dragons  
Madness by Muse  
Underwater by MIKA  
Never Let Me Go by Florence and the Machines

...

She stepped out of the bathroom, a billow of steam following behind her as she gathered up her hair and draped it over one shoulder. She dragged a towel over it as she padded toward the bed where I was lounging lazily. Her skin was flushed from the heat of the shower, the pink flush reminding me that just an hour ago I had had her spread out beneath me.

She plugged in her blow dryer and settled down at the end of the bed.

She dipped her upper half down between her legs gracefully, letting her hair fall forward. The roar of the blow dryer echoed in the room as she dried her hair layer by layer, running a brush through the snarls. My attention focused on the way her towel dipped down her back, exposing her tattoos and her speckled skin.

I crawled down the length of the bed, the sheets falling away to reveal my nude body. I stretched my limbs languidly, my muscles flexing and coiling as I advanced on her. I tugged the cotton fabric of her towel down her back as my lips caressed the delicate curve of her spine, parting and skimming over the soft, silken skin. I groaned, the sound low and throaty as it vibrated through my body, the flavor of vanilla and cherries exploding against my tongue. I dragged and swirled it around one of her beauty spots, the faint brown mole part of a series of other scattered marks.

She straightened up then arched her back as I grazed the tip of my nose against the column of her throat, gliding it along the length before I buried it into her damp hair.

"Come back to bed," I coaxed softly, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of her jaw, her head lolling back against my shoulder. The towel pooled into her lap without any resistance, and my hands swept along her bared skin, dipping beneath it. My fingers danced over the bare, supple skin of her hips.

"What time to we have to be at brunch?" she asked breathlessly.

"Eleven," I mumbled against her skin.

She sighed and pulled away from me, slipping from my grip. I pouted as she shimmied the towel back up her body, wrapping it securely beneath her arms before turning to face me. She worried the skin of her bottom lip, her pearly white teeth sinking into the plump, pink flesh easily.

"Then we don't have enough time," she told me sternly, though her eyes swept appreciatively over my body, which I made no move to hide.

"I'll make it worth your while," I cajoled.

She laughed. "God, you're insatiable today. We've already done it once this morning, not to mention the two times last night. You may not seem to need it, but my pussy needs recovery time. I'm sore."

I jutted my bottom lip out further as my hand drifted down to my semi-hard cock. "I guess you could just watch."

She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in exasperation before turning and heading toward the bathroom. "Stop using sex as an avoidance tactic and get ready," she called out over her shoulder, seeing right through me.

I groaned and flopped onto my back, giving myself a moment to muster up some energy before pushing myself up and off the bed. If I thought I could get out of going to brunch, then I would have taken that chance without hesitation. But today was important, not just for me, but for Isa, too. We were stepping forward in our relationship with me introducing her to my family today—to which I knew she was both excited and a little nervous—before we went down to Brooklyn in a few weeks to meet hers.

Strangely, the prospect of meeting her parents was less daunting than meeting her friends had been — besides the fact that her father was an ex-Ranger — but I attributed that to the fact that her friends knew Isa as who she was in the present and appraised me against that, while parents generally still held onto the child they had raised, not the woman she became, making their opinion of any man she brought home skewed. I wasn't expecting them to just welcome me into the family, no questions asked, but I hoped to form a mutual respect that stemmed from the fact that Isa was our main priority.

I strolled into the bathroom with a yawn, stretching my arms over my head and cracking my neck as I went. Isa was sitting on the toilet seat, legs crossed, giving me an excellent view of her long, creamy thighs, artfully twisting and wrapping her hair around a curling iron before unraveling it to produce bouncy curls.

I turned to the sink, a burst of warmth snaking through my chest as I saw a glimpse of her toothbrush sitting next to mine, as well as an assortment of creams and makeup. I was surprised by just how much I enjoyed seeing her stuff here in my apartment. In the past, I had always been reluctant about sharing my space, yet with Isa, the usual alarm bells were absent.

I slathered some toothpaste on my toothbrush and wet the brush under the tap before scrubbing my teeth. I ran my free hand over my jaw, scratching at my stubble and wondering if I could get away with not shaving today. Brunch with the family was always a formal affair, and while I was dreading wearing a suit, a few concessions could be made.

I watched Isa through the mirror as she finished curling her hair and sprayed hairspray on it to help keep its volume while fluffing it up, giving it a sexy, mussed look. She caught my eye and gave me an exaggerated wink that made a chuckle escape in response. I spat out the frothy toothpaste and gargled some mouthwash before moving to take a shower.

"Do you want me to pick out your clothes?" she asked.

I paused, mulling over my options. "No bright colors. No weird patterns or anything that looks in the slightest bit unusual. The simpler the better, and don't get offended if I don't like what you choose."

She gave me a mock-salute, amusement clear in her expression as she fought against the smile that was twitching up at the corners of her lips. "Sir, yes, Sir! Though the question remains to be asked is why you would have such things in your closet in the first place."

I grimaced. "Once you meet my family, you'll understand. My grandparents' personal shoppers seem to think I'm either gay or disturbed."

She chortled and bounced over to me, planting a wet kiss on my cheek and giving my ass a quick pat before sashaying out of the room.

I grinned, shaking my head as I stepped into the shower, quickly washing my hair and cleaning my body before stepping out. I wrapped one towel around my waist and rubbed another one vigorously through my hair before deciding the stick I would get for not shaving was more taxing than just shaving.

I slathered on some shaving cream, grabbed a razor and removed all my stubble until my face was smooth. I had to admit, I looked good shaved, more clean cut and tidy, but those words were not the type to generally describe me, hence, the usual scruff. I cleaned off the leftover cream and rubbed my smooth jaw, checking for any rough spots before patting it dry.

I sauntered back into the bedroom to find Isa dressed in what looked like a black spandex corset with little straps and matching underwear. It smoothed out her curves, following their lines and pulling in her waist. She stepped into her dress, shimmying it up her body and slipping her arms through the straps.

"Zip me up?" she requested, glancing over her shoulder at me. I moved up behind her, grasping the zipper in the small of her back, and dragged it up. She smoothed the front and adjusted it a little before turning to face me. "What do you think?"

I swallowed, wondering—not for the first time—why this goddess of a woman was with me. The dress was white and black, the white criss-crossing over her breasts and wrapping around her waist, and the gaps showing a layer of black stripes of black and white took turns wrapping around her hips and thighs, the hem of her dress stopping just above her knee. The swells of her breasts peeked out of the neckline, giving her a bit of cleavage, and I had to admit that she had never looked sexier. The dress fit her like a glove, accentuating her supple hips and slim waist, and the white, peep toe heels she'd paired them with, along with a jeweled, black necklace completing her outfit.  
"Gorgeous, as always," I complimented.

She smiled softly and blushed, modest about her looks. "Your clothes are on the bed," she told me, deflecting the conversation away from her, though I did detect a slight smile on her lips that told me my compliment had pleased her.

I eyed the clothes suspiciously as I approached them, pleased to find that she had picked a starched white shirt to go with the simple, black three-piece suit.

"Did you really have to pick a three-piece? They're so restricting."

"Oh, don't be a baby. You'll look extra handsome in a waistcoat."

"You've never seen me in a waistcoat," I pointed out. "For all you know, it could make me look fat or something."

"I Googled you when we started dating—you know, when I was still under the impression you could be a serial killer—and as much as you try to avoid the public eye, there was enough for me to deduce that you were not going to cut me up and freeze me in your deep freezer. But to get back on point, I have seen pictures of you in a three-piece suit, so quit bitching and put it on."

I decided that it was in my best interest not to argue, if the look Isa was giving me was any indication. Once we both deemed ourselves appropriate, my hair having been slicked back and my shoes shiny, and Isa having added a long, white dinner jacket over her dress, as well as a shiny black clutch, we headed out.

We were seconds from leaving when Carlisle appeared, suit pressed and stance formal. He seemed as surprised to see us as we were him.

"Master Cullen, I had expected you to be gone by now," he said smoothly, though his eyes belied his cool demeanor as they darted curiously over to Isa.

"We were just heading out. Isa, I would like to introduce you to Carlisle, my butler and a good friend."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Carlisle. I was afraid that Edward was keeping you locked away." I laughed at her slight jab as Carlisle shook her outstretched hand, nodding politely.

"I fear I thought the same," he responded dryly. They shared a look that I couldn't quite decipher before Carlisle took a step back, his face impassive. "Well, I don't want to make you late, and I have sheets to see to that I'm sure are in need of a good washing. Are there any other surfaces that might be in need of a…scrub?"

There was no misinterpretation that could lead to anything other than the fact that he was referring to the fact that we had obviously been having sex. Isa's cheeks turning pink with embarrassment; the cool, formal tone he used sounded more brittle to her ears than to mine. I frowned at his somewhat uncouth remark, curious as to whether he had rolled out of the wrong side of the bed, or if he didn't like Isa, even though she had given him no reason to.

"No," I said shortly.

"Very good. Master Cullen, Miss Swan, if you'll excuse me." He swept away before I could even formulate a response, disappearing down the hall.

"Well, that was..." she struggled to come up with an appropriate word to fit the situation as we exited the apartment.

"Interesting?" I offered.

"Not what I was expecting," she countered, stepping into the elevator in front of me.

"I'm not sure what was the matter with him today. He isn't usually so prickly." My tone was apologetic as I didn't want to dampen her mood, especially when she was about to meet the rest of my family in an hour or so.

"Hmmm," was all she offered in response. If there was something I hadn't forgotten in my years of abstinence, it was those telling sounds that women made that said so much without giving away anything, leaving men scrambling to figure out its meaning.

"What?"

"Nothing," she answered sweetly.

I would have pressed her further, but the elevator doors pinged open. We stepped out into the underground parking garage, and I led her to my refurbished, black convertible 1953 Chevrolet Corvette that had been re-released in the early 2000's as a Commemorative Edition. I opened her door for her, offering my arm to help her slip inside, getting a glimpse of her toned thighs when her dress rode up. The car's body rested low, the sleek leather interior worn and comfortable as I slipped in the other side.

"She's beautiful," Isa mused, running a hand lightly over the dashboard.

"She's one of my favorites. My brothers and I have made a hobby over the years of collecting old, refurbished cars. Most of them are at the family estate, but I couldn't bear to part with this one. My father helped me pick this out for my twenty-third birthday, and she was the first in my collection. My parents died seven months later, so I guess its sentimental value makes it more special to me," I confided as the low purr of the engine reverberated through the car.

She reached over and placed a comforting hand on my thigh, knowing how important her support was to me. I navigated through the busy streets, shifting gears when needed, the silence between us comfortable.

"What's your favorite color?" Isa asked randomly after a while, twisting around in her seat to face me, kicking off her heels and tucking her legs underneath her. I glanced sideways to find her dark, expressive eyes peering back at me while leaning her cheek against the headrest.

"Any reason for your randomness?"

"I just feel like we went straight to the heavy things and skipped over the small things. I mean, I know that you and your brothers are close and meet up for lunch every other week, when I don't even know your favorite color."

I had never thought of it like that, but then realized that she was right. I nodded in agreement. "I guess you're right. My favorite color is greyish blue, and before you ask, yes, that is its technical name. What about you?"

"Hmmm, lime green," she answered. "Like, the soft color, not the fluorescent one. Okay, next question; from what you've told me, you're family's personalities seem to be the opposite of yours, so who do you take after, in that regard?"

My lips curled up in a soft, sad smile at her question, and a dull pang resonating through me. "My mother. She was a writer. Whenever you couldn't find her, you knew she'd be in the library with a book or with her typewriter—she refused to buy a computer—sitting on the window seat. She used to make up these stories about me and my brothers going on different adventures each night before bed, and she'd always do the funniest voices for all the characters. She had the craziest curly, red hair that she could never tame—I get that from her, too, except that my hair is lighter like my granny Tori's—and she'd let me play with it. She's the one that taught me how to braid. You remind me a bit of her with your free spirit and that hidden innocence."

My voice was nostalgic as I talked, but I found myself smiling at the reminder of my mother.

"She sounds wonderful."

She'd been a light, a beacon, in my life. She was the one person that had truly inspired me as a child. She was always one to break the rules and have fun. When we were painting, instead of using brushes, she would dunk her hands into the pots of paint and splash them all over the canvas. Her tongue would poke out in concentration and her brow would furrow like she was attempting to make the next Picasso painting.

She would take me and my brothers on picnics in the snow, bundling us up in layers of warm clothes and have the cook make us a feast—my mother was more likely to burn the kitchen down than to make anything edible. But as much as she was perky and full of life, she was also quiet and contemplative. She could sit for hours in the solarium just watching the rain fall without speaking a word.

It was she who had encouraged me to break out of the mold and study Art and its history, instead of following in my brothers' and my father's, and his father's footsteps and going to Business school. Her only wish was for us to be truly happy, and though there were fights and arguments that ended in slammed doors and tears, we were a happy family.

"Edward, you okay?" Isa asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.

I got startled a little, pushing back the memories as I looked into Isa's worried eyes. "I'm fine," I told her with a soft smile. "Now, tell me a fond memory you have of when you were a child."

Her teeth worried her lip for a moment as she pondered out it before her eyes lit up and she grinned, her dimples coming out. "Okay, I've got one. My mother is the granddaughter of one of the richest oil barons in the South, and she and my Dad had this whirlwind romance. My Dad's parents are very Italian and they live a modest life. Anyways, my Dad picked up a hobby of refurbishing furniture and selling it from my Nonno—they now own a store together, but when I was a child, my Dad would wake me up in the middle of the night just before the garbage men came. We would dress in all black and sneak out of the house to find old furniture people were throwing out on our area and take it back to the apartment. Even after the divorce, it was our thing. He would fix it all up and sell it for a fair price."

She looked so wistful as she relived the memory that I couldn't help but try and imagine her as a child with her father gathering old furniture.

"You realize that's illegal, right?"

She waved me off. "No one ever caught us. We were quick and stealthy."

I laughed. "It does sound like a lot of fun," I conceded.

"The adrenaline rush was out of this world. It was around that time we developed the routine of watching movies together afterward because we would be too wired to go back to bed."

I loved unraveling another part of her that had been previously concealed. It was like putting all the pieces of a puzzle together until you could see how her past had shaped her. We sat in silence for a while, both of us lost in our own heads as we drew closer and closer to the family estate.

We chatted quietly, continuing to ask each other questions like what countries we had traveled to—I'd been to Japan, Russia, England, and Tibet while Isa had been to France, Italy, and Israel. We volleyed questions back and forth, more in an effort to distract Isa from the impending pleasure of meeting my family—note sarcasm. I think after the disappointing introduction with Carlisle, she was worried that my family would hold the same coldness toward her.

"It's going to be fine," I told her confidently as I helped her out the car. We had been the last to arrive, but I was hoping Isa's presence would help me to avoid the usual lecture I got on punctuation.

She stayed silent, her teeth worrying the corner of her lip as she slipped her arm through mine and cuddled against my side. I had to admit that the house looked daunting, towering over us ominously as we walked up the steps and rang the bell.

It wasn't long until Alistair, the house's butler, opened the door. "Ah, Master Cullen, it has been too long since you've darkened, I mean, lit up, this doorway," he jested with a grin, moving aside and sweeping his hand to invite us in. "And who might this beautiful creature at your side be?"

"Alistair, I'd like you to meet Isa, my girlfriend. Isa, this is Alistair, the family butler."

"It's nice to meet you," Isa greeted, offering him her hand.

"I assure you, the pleasure is all mine," he flirted, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

I raised my eyebrow, more amused than annoyed. Alistair was old enough to be her father. Hell, he was old enough to be mine, so I didn't see him as any kind of competition.

"Alright, Casanova, enough flirting. I'm sure they are all on the edge of their seats waiting for us to make our presence known."

He gave her one last wink before turning and leading us into the living room. Isa squeezed my arm nervously, and I rested my hand reassuringly in the small of her back and dipped my head down to place a kiss by her ear, feeling her relax against me in response. I drew back just before guiding her forward around the last corner to face my family.

One rule in our family was that we had to wait for everyone to arrive before we could go into the dining room—which was why I was continuously lectured for being late—so I truly was not exaggerating when I said that every eye was on us as we stepped into the room. I braved the close scrutiny, ignoring the way it made my skin prickle and my fingers twitch.

They all looked at me expectantly after appraising Isa, waiting for the introduction. Carmen and Eleazar were nestled together on one of the love seats, Emmett was sprawled out in an armchair, and my grandparents were sitting together in the corner.

I reminded myself that this was necessary and needed, though, most likely not painless, so I sucked it up.

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce my girlfriend, Isabella Swan."

I wasn't surprised when Carmen practically jumped forward to greet Isa enthusiastically, enveloping her in a hug. Isa gave me a slightly panicked look, to which I responded with a helpless shrug.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Carmen gushed. "I mean, I saw a glimpse of you at the gala a few months back, and I knew Edward was smitten with you, but he refused to let us meet because things were so new between you and him."

Isa looked a little overwhelmed, and I stepped in. "Carmen, there is such a thing called personal space." She took the hint and detangled herself from the hug she had been giving Isa.

"I'm sorry. I got a little overexcited there. It's just that it's been so long since Edward has brought anyone home to meet us, and it'll be nice to have someone new to talk to."

"It's fine," Isa told her with a soft smile, waving her behavior away. "It's nice to meet you, too."

The rest of the introductions were made with Isa meeting Nana Es and Gramps, and even Emmett managed to behave himself. After the formalities were over, we were ushered into the dining room where a delicious spread was laid out.

I held out Isa's chair for her before she settled herself down in it after having removing her jacket, and I tucked it in before taking a seat next to her. My hand immediately sought out her thigh, knowing that both of us needed to have some semblance of calm if we were to get through this...ordeal.

"So, Isabella," Nana Es started, her dark eye continuing to appraise my girlfriend. "What do you do for a living? Edward was rather vague when it came to you. Then again, he neglected to inform me of your relationship until last week."

I barely refrained from rolling my eyes, having expected to get some stick about it. I bit my tongue and instead, focused on piling some scrambled eggs from the platter in front of me.

"I'm a cellist for a small orchestra in the city. I recently performed at the 12th Annual Honors charity gala for the American Liver Foundation. In the off-season, I volunteer for a charity, Music Matters, that brings music to public schools in the country as an after-school program."

She spoke confidently and without faltering, her gaze steady as she faced my grandmother. I could tell that Nana Es was impressed by the way Isa held herself, and I squeezed her thigh, silently telling her how proud I was of her.

"Volunteering isn't a good way to obtain a steady income," Nana Es commented, and I tensed, knowing exactly what she was implying. I opened my mouth to defend Isa, annoyed that she would insinuate that Isa was with me for my money, but Isa grabbed my hand, stopped me in my tracks.

"Edward, it's fine," she told me softly with a smile. She flipped our hands over, threading them together as she held my gaze for a moment before turning to face my grandmother. "You're right, Mrs. Cullen, volunteering doesn't pay well, but I don't do it for the money. My mother is the granddaughter of one of the richest oil barons in the South, and I was lucky enough to be able to pursue music without worry of having to struggle to pay the bills. I volunteer to give other kids a chance to pursue music like I was able to. Music scholarships are just a part of what Music Matters gives, and I want a part in shaping kids into something wonderful. I have no need for your grandson's money as I have a sizable trust fund that covers all my needs and more. I'm set for life."

Isa's passion shone through her words, and I would be shocked if anyone could doubt the sincerity of them. Isa wasn't a social climber or a gold digger looking for someone to leech off, and she made sure to make that obvious to my grandmother. Nana Es scrutinized her for a moment longer before she gave a stiff nod of acceptance and turned to pluck a small bushel of grapes from the bowl in front of her.

"You just gained her approval," I murmured, ducking my head down to speak directly into her ear.

"It was easier than I anticipated," Isa answered, a surprised lilt in her voice.

"It isn't over yet," I reminded her, knowing that more questions would be coming her way as brunch progressed. Just because Nana Es didn't think Isa was a threat to me or the Cullen fortune, it didn't mean that the interrogation was over. Nana Es wouldn't be truly happy until she knew every little detail about Isa, nosing the truth out of her like a bloodhound.

It was quiet for a while, the chatter consisting of asking for different platters until we were each happy with what we had on our plates. I speared the tomatoes out of the salad on Isa's plate, knowing that unless they were cooked or sun dried she wouldn't eat them, while Isa sliced opened my bagel evenly, knowing how I usually butchered them.

"What?" I asked when I noticed everyone—apart from Gramps who took his food very seriously—staring at us. I felt like an exhibit in a zoo and that set me on edge, self-conscious about the attention. They seemed startled when I spoke and shrugged in unison before turning back to their food.

"So, Isa," Nana began, dabbing her lips daintily with a serviette. "What do you like to do in your spare time?"

"I like to walk and play with my dog, and I have a fondness for cooking."

"Oh, you cook?" Nana asked with interest.

"She's very talented. She's let me sample some of it and its better than some restaurants," I jumped in, edging my way into the conversation.

Isa blushed modestly and waved me off with a delicate flick of her wrist. "Oh, I'm not that good."

"On the contrary, homemade meals are generally better than what you find in restaurant. Do you have a specialty?" Nana questioned.

"Well, my father is Italian, so my Nonna taught me some good family recipes."

"You made an awesome cannelloni last Friday."

"You helped," she reminded me.

"Wait," Emmett interrupted. "You actually got Edward to cook without the use of a microwave and a pre-made dinner?"

Isa nodded. "He stuffed all the pasta for me while I cooked the lamb sirloin." The pride in her voice made it sound like I had accomplished something great, and I slipped my arm around the back of her chair and nuzzled the curve of her ear with my nose. I was sure that I would get some looks for it since I had never been overly affectionate to toward my previous girlfriends, but Isa didn't apply to any of my previous rules and thoughts on relationships. I felt like I had a blank slate with her, one that wasn't filled with the baggage and restrictions that I'd once had.

I placed a kiss just below her ear before drawing back, refusing to see the reactions of my family as I turned back to my plate. I kept my arms slung across the back of her chair, my fingers playing absently with her hair.

"I never thought I'd see the day where Edward would willingly cook," Eleazar commented. "Then again, I wasn't sure I'd see the day when he actually brought a woman home after what's her name."

I tensed a little at the mention of my last girlfriend, Chelsea, my memories of her not all that fond, and grimaced. My taste in women in the past had left a lot to be desired, but in my own defense it was Carmen that had set me up with some of them.

"That's because we thought he'd be bringing a guy home with him," Emmett interjected.

"No," I corrected. "You thought I was gay, the rest of them thought I was crazy."

"Crazy is such a harsh term. We thought you'd temporarily lost your good senses," Gramps said gruffly, finally joining in the conversation. "You're your mother's son through and through, but it was only a matter of time until you found someone to thaw you out of your funk."

"For fucks sake," I muttered, wondering why I subjected myself to this.

"Edward, language," Nana chastised.

"Hey, did you hear about Liam Connolly?" Carmen spoke up, steering the conversation away from me. "He's coming back from Ireland next month."

I gave her a grateful smile and let the conversation flow over me as they volleyed back and forth, creating theories about his sudden departure and whether or not he was giving up the cloth.

We eventually finished eating, and I was quite pleased that Nana had kept her most invasive questions to herself, only asking about her family and her life in general. I took Isa's hand, leaving the rest to chat over tea and coffee as I took her on the tour of the house.

Her heels clicked against the floor, echoing in the halls as I showed her all the little hideaways that I used to sneak off to when I wanted to be alone. She marveled at the vastness of the library, in awe of the first editions that were stored away amongst the classics. I drew her toward the window seat hidden behind a few of the stacks and pulled her down on it as I stretched out across it, cradling her between my legs. Her back rested against my chest as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pointing out the pond through the window and the decrepit tree house that we had played in as kids, murmuring the memories they held for me in her ear, sharing myself with her.

"Edward," she voiced quietly after I had lapsed into silence. "How long were you single before I came along?"

"Why?" I asked cautiously, hoping that no one had told her.

She shrugged. "I mean, you told me that it had been a while, and I kind of assumed that it had been around a year, but the way your family talked about it…" she trailed uncertainly, and I sighed, knowing it was long overdue for me to tell her about this piece of my life.

"You're right. I wasn't straightforward with you about how long I was single. I didn't keep it from you because I have something to hide. I kept it from you because I wanted you to know me for the man I am and understand how I work."

"You're kind of scaring me," she said nervously.

I let out another sigh, thinking carefully about how to word this. "I spent time in the Tibetan mountains with some monks, and I found their focus and sacrifice for their way of life admirable. They had little next to nothing, and yet they were content. I did a lot of soul searching while I was there, and I realized that since college I hadn't been single for longer than a couple of months. I had forgotten the fundamentals of who I was and what my goals were. I was cynical and unhappy, and for a while I couldn't even lift a paintbrush because I stopped seeing the beauty in the world. I had fallen into a depression that seemed like it was closing in on every part of my life. I was suffocating under the stress of juggling my girlfriend, my family, the constant attention, and my lack of inspiration. If I had let it go on for much longer I would have snapped, which was why I went to Tibet in the first place-to escape. It was there that I decided that I needed to take a break from some the distractions I had afforded myself. I went on what I liked to call a 'dating sabbatical.' I didn't know at the time how long it would last, but I was discovering the "me" who I had pushed aside to make room for the women in my life. The longer I spent away, the more I started turning back into the man I wanted to be, one that my parents could be proud of. It lasted for approximately three years before I met you and realized that I was ready to try again."

I had been expecting an outburst of incredulity or shock, but instead I was met with silence. Her breathing stayed even and she didn't attempt to pull away from me. I had anticipated a fight or her jumping to conclusions, but instead she seemed to be rolling my words in her head, taking the time to really listen and digest what I had told her before she spoke.

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me this before. I mean, it's when we discuss safety, sex, and past partners that you reveal that you've been celibate for three years." She spoke slowly, confusion and a hint of incredulity in her tone as she twisted her body so that she could look at me.

"I know, but at that point, things were still so new, and I knew that if I revealed something so personal and fundamental to whom I was to you without you knowing the kind of person I am, you would think of yourself as a rebound or some kind of experiment. There was no big blowout and no one cheated on me, that wasn't why I pulled away from dating. It was never just one thing or one woman. It was a mountain of shit that had been building for years until I was crushed under its weight.

"Chelsea, my last girlfriend, was a friend of Carmen's, and she was a budding socialite who just needed someone to support her shopping habits. Our relationship was convenient at best, and we both got what we wanted out of it. She enjoyed being on my arm at events and spending my money, and I—as crass as it sounds—just wanted regular sex and someone to get my family off my back. Relationships are supposed to be built on mutual trust and honesty, and we didn't have that. I was somewhat of a passive participant in our relationship, and in some of my relationships before that. We broke up over the phone while I was in Tibet, and honestly, I didn't feel a thing. No hint of remorse or pain over it; if anything, it was a relief to cut my ties with her. I'd already been gone three months without so much as a word to anyone, and the only reason I wasn't hunted down was because they saw my credit balance when I bought my plane ticket. It's still a big thing among my family, and I'm still not sure if they ever quite forgave me for disappearing off the face of the planet for all those months."

I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders as I bared myself to her in a way that I had been reluctant to. It was that I didn't trust Isa. On the contrary, I trusted her more than even some of my family members, but while I knew I might get some backlash for keeping it from her for so long, I knew that, in the long run, it had been better to wait.

To have told her in the beginning would have created insecurities and a whole slew of problems that would have been detrimental to the growth of our relationship. We were both better equipped to deal with this now that we understood how the other ticked and wouldn't blow it out of proportion.

So, yes, maybe I could have told her a little earlier, but no matter how convenient it sounded, I had forgotten. The only time it ever flittered in my mind was when I was balls deep inside of her, wondering how I could have gone so long without that kind of exquisite pleasure. It wasn't exactly the best time to bring it up.

Isa stared intently at me as she rolled her lip back and forth between her teeth before speaking. "Somehow, I'm really not that surprised. I mean, that is the kind of thing you would do, and I guess some part of me sort of knew that your evasiveness on the subject meant that there was more than what you were telling me.

"Am I pissed that you didn't tell me before? Yes, a little. I feel like you didn't have the faith to trust me with it, but—to a certain extent—I get it. If given the choice, I probably wouldn't have told you about all the age play stuff before I had properly felt you out. My past relationships haven't been all that successful either, and, apparently, liking it rough and a little kinky made me weird and strange. I've battled my self-image and self-esteem for as long as I can remember. I was a chubby teenager that was obsessed with music and marched to the beat of my own drum which made me a target for bullying. I practically killed myself trying to get skinny in high school, and I thank God to this day that my parents found out about my eating habits—or lack of them—before they turned into a disorder. I went to therapy and got myself on a healthy diet and exercise plan, but I had lingering issues for a lot of my teenage years. It was when I spent a year in Paris that I began to accept myself as I was. My perspective on beauty changed from what society had been feeding me for years, but I still have insecurities sometimes about my weight and how people view me. They are fleeting and most of the time I don't give a fuck, but when you add in my fetish, you have a whole new can of worms. It has taken me a while to become comfortable with and love the woman I am today—needs, body, and all—but there are times when it's hard for me to ask for things. I have this innate fear of rejection that stems from years of thinking I wasn't good enough, and I think that is one of the things that drives me further into our Daddy/little girl dynamic. When we're like that, I'm not given a choice or an option beyond what you want me to do, and sometimes a girl just needs to get out of her head for a while. You give me that, and you make me feel beautiful and precious, and that frightens me."

"Why? What are you scared of?" I asked when she finally took a breath, pausing long enough to suck in a lungful of air as her wide, doe eyes met mine. I gathered her in my arms, tucking her face into the crook of my neck as she curled up against me.

"I get scared of how much I need you; crave you, as my Daddy. I get scared of wanting to ask for more when you already give me so much. I get scared of how you make me feel—in and out of playtime, and I–"

I pressed a finger over her lips to stop her from rambling, unable to stop the smile that twitched up at the corners of my lips at just how adorable she was.

"Good," I told her simply.

She frowned, her brows drawing together in confusion. "Good?" she mumbled against my finger.

"Baby, this is scary—God knows that there are times that I'm scared shitless of doing the wrong thing—but there's nothing wrong with wanting more. I see you, Isa. I have since the first day I met you. I didn't recognize what it was at the time, but something in me saw past the confidence and the quick wit to the vulnerable girl beneath. Don't think for a second that I don't want this as much as you do because there is always a part of me, active and aware, that is ready to take control. It's as much a part of me as the need to hand over control is a part of you. If you want more then maybe we should start playing every weekend or maybe we could stretch each time out longer. I don't care if you want me to bend you over my knee and call you my slut or my whore. Tell me what you need, and I will do everything in my power to give it to you."

My words were passionate and sincere, the need for her to know how I felt on the subject encompassing. I could see now that what I had previously seen as hesitation to trust me had been her struggling to trust herself.

She let out a long, unsteady breath, her shoulders slumping as if a large weight had been lifted from them. "Thank you," she breathed, her warm breath fanning out across my skin as she planted a wet kiss at the corner of my jaw. "Though, for the record, call me a whore and I will castrate you."

Her tone was flippant and even as I chuckled, I didn't doubt the truth of them.

"You know, there's a difference between being a whore and being my whore."

"Then I'll be your slut. My previous offer of castration still stands."

"My nasty little slut...hmmm, that has a ring to it," I whispered directly in her ear before nipping at her lobe.

She shivered. "Don't start something we can't finish. The last thing either of us needs is for me to slip up and call you Daddy in front of your family."

I chuckled lowly, nuzzling my nose against hers affectionately. She giggled in response before threading a hand through my hair and tugging my face down to meet hers. Our lips brushed lightly, and I softly kissed her top lip then her bottom lip before we shared a series of open-mouthed kisses. Neither one of us made a move to deepen our kisses, as both of us were contented to bask in the warmth and affection that passed between us.

We weren't done talking by a long shot. The revelations that had been unearthed about our pasts were something that we needed to discuss further and work through until any feelings festering beneath the surface were eradicated. I knew that there was still a chance that Isa could blow up at me about not trusting her, the understanding she had shown eclipsed by her passionate, Italian temper.

Her own past had shed some light and showed me a piece of her puzzle that I had been missing. I was sure that to anyone who didn't know her, it would be hard to reconcile the sassy, confident woman with the version she had just told me about, but she had given me a glimpse of both sides; the insecure, vulnerable girl just as captivating than the quick-witted, straightforward woman.

"We should head back before they think we defiled my childhood bed," I told her absently, unwilling to truly move but knowing that we should. Isa gave a little whine, her bottom lip pouting out adorably, her dark chocolate eyes begging me not to bring us back into the reality that was beginning to encroach on our intimate bubble.

I heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Emmett. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and I had to hide my smile in Isa's hair.

"Uh, we were starting to think you two had gotten lost. They asked to come find you, so..." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and rocked back and forth. I probably would have drawn it out longer, but Isa took compassion on him and climbed off my lap, giving me a great view of her full ass as she stood up. I noticed that I wasn't the only one staring as she shimmied her dress further down her legs from where it had ridden up, and couldn't help but feel a little smug. He looked sheepish when he caught my eye, my quirked eyebrow telling him that his perusal of my girlfriend had not been as subtle as he had hoped.

Isa didn't wait for us, her curvaceous hips swaying as she walked past Emmett confidently, me and him trailing behind.

"Does she have a sister?" was the first thing out of his mouth as we walked down the hall.

I laughed through my nose, shaking my head lightly in disbelief. "Only you, Em. She has a step-sister, but they aren't close."

"Karma really is a bitch. How is it that you go off and play the tortured celibate soul for three years, and then suddenly get a gorgeous girlfriend that can cook?"

"Fuck if I know. I'm just counting my blessings that she gave me the time of day when we met."

"You sure she's twenty-five? She looks younger."

"Would you like to check her driver's license?" I asked dryly. "And yeah, she looks younger than she is, but I'm not complaining. You should see how pissed off she gets when she gets carded when we go out."

"You are one lucky son of a bitch. I mean, that ass, those hips, that fucking tiny waist with those breasts. Are they real?"

I slapped him over the back of the head. "Don't be an ass, Emmett. Of course they're real! Don't look at my girlfriend like that."

He held up his hands defensively. "Shit, sorry. I was just curious. I mean, they're so perky."

"You don't get to be curious about whether my girlfriend's tits are real or not, or how perky they are. That's for me to know and you to not even think about. Got it?"

He seemed shocked by my possessiveness over her, but was it so wrong that I didn't want my brother speculating about the realness Isa's breasts? She deserved more respect than that. She wasn't some random woman on the street or in a bar, and while Emmett's general treatment of women left a little to be desired, he did know better.

"For what it's worth," he said after a few moments of silence, "I think mom would have liked her."

I glanced over at my younger brother, both happy and sad at his words. Emmett had just turned twenty-one when our patents died, and the impact of it was something he had never truly worked through. It saddened me that I hadn't been there as much as I could have been for him, and reached over and ruffled his hair, just about done with the heavy subjects for the day.

"Thanks, kid. It'll be your turn next to find a girl you want to be with long term. I'm sure Nana and Carmen have a list already drawn up," I teased.

He shoved my shoulder, pushing me away as he arranged his dark blonde hair. Emmett was the perfect blend of our parents. Whereas I looked and acted like my mother, and Eleazar looked and acted like our father, Emmett tended to have a little bit of both in him.

"Don't remind me. I know you guys think that I don't want to settle down, but I know when I meet the girl I'm supposed to love, things will fall into place. Until then, is it so wrong that I want to have a little bit of fun?"

"Em, it's your life. Fuck what everyone else, including me, says and tells you to do. Just be true to yourself, and be happy. It's all mom ever wanted for us, and it might have taken me this long to get to that place, but it doesn't have to be like that for you. I mean, the company and all that shit don't have to be where you end up, if you don't want it to. Just think about it, okay, kid?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I hear you."

"Good, now let's catch up with the rest before Nana starts asking questions that she shouldn't."

"Can't say that I envy you," he told me with a chortle.

"You will, kid. One day, when you meet the girl that's supposed to be yours, and you look back, you'll wish that you'd been the first to bring her home."

He grunted, not quite believing me. "So, have you admitted to yourself that you're in love with her yet?"

I laughed, the sound deep in the back of my throat and shrugged. "Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. Either way, we have time to sort through our feelings, so there's no point in rushing it."

"Don't wait too long. She seems like the kind of girl that'll say it first if you hesitate too long."

"Too true. We've got some shit to discuss first before I even think about saying those three words. When the time is right, I'll tell her, whether it's before or after she tells me herself."

Our conversation ended there as we walked into the solarium where they were all sitting, the women huddled together. Isa looked over at me when I sat beside her, raised an eyebrow in silent question as I slung an arm across the back of the couch.

"It's all good. Emmett and I just had some things to talk about," I told her.

She nodded and smiled before turning her attention back to the conversation she had been engaged in. Poor Eleazar looked bored to tears, and Gramps had fallen asleep in his armchair. All in all, it was no different than any other brunch, except now I had someone to share it with.

**AN: After this chapter I can safely assume that it's time to name our Ward. All suggestions welcome. Leave me some love! Also I have an entry to the Mine to Mark contest on my profile if you wanna check that out. Possessive Edward!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q:Will Edward take Bella to a social event in a near future?**  
**A: I'm sure he will**

**Q: We know that Isa has friends outside of Edward, does Edward have any friends outside of his family?**  
**A: Yes, but I'm not sure when you'll meet them.**

**Q:Will Madame Rosa be the mentor Edward is seeking or will she introduce him to**  
**someone else?**  
**A: Ohhhh, good question. I could tell you the answer to this, but that would ruin the surprise.**

**Q:Will Edward and Isa meet anyone in there that they know but had no idea that he or she was into things like that?**  
**A: This is a good question, but its one I'm reluctant to answer this question at this point because I know y'all are looking for spoilers. Just sit back and enjoy the story as it unfolds.**

**Q:Will they become regular in Madame's Rosa's place now that Edward is a member? What will Isa think of the place?**  
**A: I don't see why they wouldn't, and don't worry, Isa will be introduced to Madame Rosa in a few chapters.**

**Q:So what will having a mentor entail? Just some guidance and questions answered? I'll be honest I'm a little nervous about where this could go, is someone going to be watching them do private things?**  
**A: Before anything happens, there will a sit down where they will all discuss their limits and what they want out of the mentorship. No one is going to do anything that makes one or more of the parties uncomfortable. It'll mostly just be guidance and questions answered, but their mentor will also observe them in play. I can't, at this moment, tell you how far it'll go, but don't worry. I know what I'm doing.**

**Q:As an artist, will Edward be having a showing at any galleries?And what is his artistic style?**  
**A: Not at the moment. Preparing for a showcase takes up a lot of time and energy, which, right now, he is directing toward Isa, but maybe in the future. His artistic style is contemporary, and his focus is toward watercolor and oil pastels.**

**Q:Will there come a scene where Edward will miss cues and push Isa further than she was ready for?**  
**A: Undoubtedly. The real question is, will I write it or just mention that it happened...?**

**Q:What are good sites to watch daddy!kink porn for free? And sites to**  
**read more daddy!kink stories?**  
**A: For me, when I'm looking for good Daddy!kink porn which is free I use tumblr. Blogs such as .com have been very inspiring for me. Its full of spanking and sex, so you can't go wrong there. Finding good Daddykink to read is hard, but try .**


	14. Chapter 14

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 14**

**AN: Thanks for the song recs, and thanks to Darcysmom and torisufergirl for betaing. It took me forever to write this, so I hope you like it.**

**Playlist:**

**All I've Ever Needed by Nikki Reed and Paul McDonald.**  
**Between the Raindrops by Lifehouse ft. Natasha Beddingfield**  
**Miss Atomic Bomb by The Killers**  
**Feel Again by Onerepublic**  
**Up by James Morrison ft. Jessie J**  
**Too Close by Alex Clare**  
**Shewolf by David Guetta ft. Sia**  
**Titanium by David Guetta ft. Sia**

There was a bite in the air as the wind whispered over my skin and ruffled through my hair. The sun peeked out through the clouds, bathing the park where we resided in warmth and light. I leaned back against the tree trunk, my fingers stroking through the silken tresses of Isa's hair as she lay with her head in my lap. A book rested on her bare stomach where her T-shirt had ridden up over her navel, the spine stretching as it made a tent to keep her place. Minion wasn't far off from where we lounged comfortably on a blanket in the shade, playing with some other dogs.

Blossom petals fell down around us like a shower of pale pink snow, gliding and swirling on their path toward earth and landing gently onto the ground around us. The scent of pollen was potent and heavy, almost overwhelming, as it hung in the air and enveloped us in its sweetness.

Isa had been surprised when I had woken her up and told her that we were going out. Usually, we would have breakfast and go straight into playtime on a Saturday morning, but we had things that we needed to discuss, and I didn't want to be cooped up in her apartment for it. We had gleaned over the shift in our Daddy/little girl relationship that we wanted to put into effect, but I wanted to set aside real time to go over everything.

Things had been a little up and down between Isa and I since the family brunch—the honeymoon phase of our relationship ending as we argued for the first time. Isa wasn't passive-aggressive when it came to her feelings. She was passionate and loud and didn't hold anything back, and I met her tit for tat. We were both irrationally defensive when it came to our pasts, but, in the end, we came to the conclusion that we both overreacted and then talked it out calmly.

It wasn't the fact that I hadn't told her about my three-year dating sabbatical from the beginning that pissed her off—she could understand that to a certain degree—so much as the fact that I had waited months to tell her, when I had had ample opportunity to fill her in. She hadn't minced her words when she told me that our relationship wouldn't work if I didn't talk to her about these kind of things. She understood that I was a private person, and she didn't expect me to suddenly start pouring my heart out to her, but she needed me not to underestimate her and make decisions for her based on how the other women in my life had been.

As much as her words had smarted, she was right in her assessment, and I wanted us to move forward without the baggage of past relationships weighing us down. If I clung to my past, then there was no way that I could move forward, so I promised to make the effort to start with her on a blank slate.

It was something that we both needed to work on, but now that we had addressed it, we could work on it.

Isa had admitted that her own past had led her to have some lingering insecurities that stemmed from a negative relationship. She'd been a young and naive sophomore student, and he'd been a dick. It was before she even recognized her desires for what they were. When she asked him to be a little rougher and a little more commanding during sex, and he had told his friends and made fun of her behind her back, she'd partially closed that part of herself off.

It was one of the reason that she had been hesitant to ask for more, and while she had successfully pushed past it for the most part, there were still times when she froze up. She didn't want to compromise what we had, and she was afraid of pushing me into something I didn't want just because she wanted it. We decided that, on the whole, we needed to be completely honest with each other about our own needs and desires so that we could avoid a repeat of her past.

"Baby, you ready to talk?" I asked softly, shifting my legs into a more comfortable position and jostling her slightly.

Her lids fluttered open slowly, and a gentle sigh slipped past her lips as she stretched, arching her back off the blanket. She sat up, craning her neck and extending her arms above her head while a quiet yawn escaped before twisting around to face me. She pressed her cheek into my shoulder while her arms snaked around my waist, and she slipped one of her legs in between mine.

"I'm ready."

I loved how affectionate she was with me. Even in a public setting, she didn't shy away. Instead, she drew me closer. A part of me almost wished we had talked more about this last night, but Friday nights were for us as a couple to reconnect after the stress of the week.

I licked my lips, my mind running in circles as I worked out how to start the conversation. "I...what exactly do you want from me as your Daddy?"

Nobody ever told you how difficult it could be to navigate through these kinds of conversations. Acting on them? Easy, natural even. Talking and discussing it? Hard as fuck. The main thing we needed to figure out was how high on the spectrum we wanted to go. There were certain BDSM elements that we liked, but others we weren't sold on. We had started with the basics, focusing on the submission and control aspects more than the rules and rituals. I wasn't interested in forcing Isa to engage in anything undignified or humiliating. I didn't want her eating out of a dog's bowl or acting like a BDSM slave.

On the other hand, the thought of her kneeling and begging turned me on, as did the thought of leashing her and making her crawl for me. Those were acts that I wouldn't deny wanting, but we needed to define our limits more thoroughly than we had before. It wasn't that we hadn't taken our relationship seriously, but it had been more of an experiment to test the waters and dip our feet in the waters. Now that we had more of a clearer picture of where we were heading, we had to start taking the necessary precautions.

"I want more freedom to be little. I don't want the vanilla and kinky aspects of our relationship to be separated anymore. I don't want to hold back and bite my tongue when the need to be little bubbles up. When we're alone, I want to be the me that I've been denying for so long. I want to indulge in the side of me that I've hidden away, thinking that I was holding onto silly, childish ways. In the beginning, I thought it was just a phase, a passing fancy. I was a grown, independent woman with a job, an apartment, and real responsibilities. But time went by, and I was still drawn to little things, things that have started to once again fill my wardrobe and my life. I misunderstood my inclinations and my feelings, thinking that I just didn't want to grow up and face life, but, now, I know that it's part of who I am, that it's a part of my sexuality and femininity.

"These past few months with you where we've tested ourselves has opened my eyes. I've always thought of my fetish as a dirty little secret meant to be hidden away, but now I know that there is nothing wrong with holding onto that space where I can play, be free, and feel safe. I look at pictures of myself of when I was a kid, and I look so serious all the time. I just want to put that girl in pigtails and give her some bubbles and send her outside to have fun. As a child, I was too busy fretting over fitting in and going back and forth between my parents to really enjoy my childhood. If I could go back in time and give myself some advice, I would tell my younger self to relax and that there would be plenty of time to be perfect and grown up later, but I can't."

I nodded slowly, digesting her words. I wasn't surprised by her declaration; the clarity of how we were going to do this settling in my mind. I cleared my throat and swallowed, licking my dry lips as my mind pieced everything together.

"So, you want it all," I stated. "You want the rules. You want the do's and don'ts made to my specifications. You want me to actively control your day to day life."

She nodded timidly, her expressive eyes wide and shining with hope. "I know it's a lot, but there's this feeling in my gut that cries out for the complete absence of control. I've done my research, and I know that there are countless ways to have a relationship like this. I just need you to understand that this goes way beyond kinky sex for me. I want someone to take care of me, to hold sole responsibility and to provide for me. I want more than just fucking. I want the affection, the intimacy, and the commitment."

What she said was a reiteration of what we had previously discussed, only more intense. Where, initially, she had requested this dynamic in our relationship in small doses, her confidence had built to the point where she was ready to take the next step and make it more permanent. This wasn't something we were just trying out anymore. We had dipped our toes in the edge of the water and were now willing to take the plunge. Having someone to guide her through the vulnerability, someone willing to take part of the fear and uncertainty, was the focal point of D/s relationships, and the very definition of what intimacy was.

"If we do this, then I want us to set Fridays aside for us as a couple. I want to still be able to take you out on dates and be with you as my equal." My words weren't so much a request as a demand, and it would be the first of many.

She nodded vigorously. "I don't want to lose that part of us. I just need you to be an active force in my life."

I rubbed my thumb over my jaw thoughtfully. "I don't want us to rush blindly into this. Let's not forget that we are both still new to this dynamic. I think we should start out easy, acclimate ourselves to the new shift until I feel more confident and comfortable in fully taking the reins. So, here is my proposal: Fridays will be reserved for dates so that we can connect and talk as a couple. Saturday and Sunday will be playtime. In the week, if the need ever arises for you to be little, don't hold back—I'm only a phone call away. That being said, I feel that with these changes in our relationship, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other."

"Okay," she agreed after a long moment, having mulled over the logistics and found my idea acceptable. "That sounds like a good starting point."

"But," I added, jumping right into my next point. "There will be certain rules that you will have to follow during the week whether I'm there or not. One: I want you well-groomed and bare at all times. Two: Your orgasms now belong to me. I don't care if you choose to fuck yourself on a dildo every day of the week, if you come without my explicit permission then you will be punished."

"How will you know if I cum or not?" she asked cheekily, her eyes dancing with mischief.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Honestly, I won't, but you will, and you don't want to disappoint Daddy, now, do you?"

She shook her head, her eyes downcast and a chagrined expression on her face. I was counting on her need to please me and the guilt of disappointing me to curb her need to break that particular rule.

"Good girl. I want you to send me a detailed plan of the meals you generally eat, and while I'm willing to give you some slack in regards to your diet, there will be certain things that you'll have to change. I don't want you skipping meals anymore, and it's important that you eat your five-a-day every day and keep properly hydrated. I want you to cut down your daily intake of coffee to only three cups a day.

"I also want you to keep a journal, recounting all your infractions in the week, which I will read each Saturday morning and decide how to punish or discipline you accordingly. You will keep me updated on your weekly schedule so that I know where you are at all times. I don't care if you're going grocery shopping or out to lunch with friends, I want to be informed so that I am aware of when you are available or not, am I understood?"

Each command I gave her fueled the sexual tension between us, the excitement and lust building to the point where her skin was flushed and her eyelids drooped as she gnawed on her bottom lip. Her chest heaved as she breathed in heavy, uneven breaths, and my cock swelled, pushing against the zipper of my jeans. It was difficult not to get distracted with the desire simmering beneath the surface, and I was sure that some of what I had already instructed her would have to be reiterated.

"Yes, Daddy," she practically whimpered.

I loved that instead of balking at my commands and scoffing at my rules, she thrived off my domination. She didn't argue or try to negotiate with me, she simply accepted my words as though the very thought of fighting them had not crossed her mind. Her actions solidified everything that she had told me about needing more, and I found myself eager to give her more of what she had craved for so many years.

"You are to be in bed by ten-thirty each night. I want you to get the right amount of sleep, but if, for some reason, you are unable to get to bed at the appropriate time, then I expect you to take a nap sometime during the day to make up for it. Any lapses in fulfilling your intended eight hours of sleep will be met by punishment, unless you specifically request an exception, which will have to be backed by a pretty good explanation for me to allow it, okay?"

She nodded her head somewhat hesitantly, her teeth nipping nervously at the skin of her bottom lip. "Yes, Daddy."

This particular rule may have seemed impossible to her, but there were underlining reasons that had nothing to do with sleep for it. I knew that out of all the rules I had given, she would struggle with having a curfew the most, resulting in many punishments. If there was anything I had learned about Isa, it was that getting things done on time was not her strong point. She may not be too pleased about it now, but at some point she would see that I was creating the kind of structure in her life that she tended to lack. I was forcing her to be more organized and disciplined with her time, and, eventually, it would seep into other parts of her life until it became a natural part of her.

"Good girl," I praised her. I leaned down, tilting my head to the side as she turned her face toward me and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss against her lips. She sighed, her mouth parting as her soft lips molded against mine. She fisted the front of my shirt, pulling herself up closer to me as I coaxed her lips apart, allowing my tongue entrance. Our tongues mingled, tasting and exploring at a languid pace, neither of us pushing for more.

I pulled back slowly, pushing her hair out of her face and smiled softly at her. She returned the smile, her cheeks flushed and dimples showing as I rubbed my nose against hers, loving the sound of her giggle when my hair tickled her skin. It was so innocent and carefree that I couldn't help but let a throaty chuckle escape.

"A few more things, Princess," I said, leaning back to give myself some room and clarity to think straight. "I want you to have an anal plug in for at least an hour each day to stretch you in preparation for my cock."

She let out a strained whimper at that, and I smirked, feeling my arousal spike as a shudder descended down her spine.

You like the thought of Daddy's cock in your ass, don't you?"

"Uh huh," she answered, peeking up shyly at me from under her thick lashes.

"Well, if you're a good girl and train your cute little ass to take more, then Daddy will reward you with that."

I didn't give her too many rules because I didn't want to overwhelm her too quickly. I was sure that as we continued, somewhere down the line I would add more, but I was content with the rules I had already given her, for now. I had originally debated on adding in an exercise plan, but between her daily walks with her dog and the fact that she attended a kickboxing class every Monday night, I figured that she had that aspect under control.

The rumbling of Isa's stomach drew us out of our little bubble, and she blushed an adorable pink. "I guess I should feed the monster," she said, laughing at herself as she reached for the bag of food we had picked up on the way—and by on the way, I mean we took a huge detour because Isa insisted that the food at a little Italian deli called Leo's Latticini or more commonly known as Mama's, was to die for.

I probably shouldn't have been surprised that the owners knew Isa personally and came out to chat and catch up, the English quickly descending into Italian, which Isa, of course, was fluent in. She got very animated and passionate when she was speaking, her arms flailing and her eyes sparkling, and I had to admit that I found it very sexy.

The scent of roast pork hit my nostrils making my mouth water as I focused on taking the offered sub and unwrapped it. I groaned loudly as I took my first bite. The fresh, fluffy bread hugged countless slices of warm, juicy roast pork beneath chunks of mozzarella and was topped off with cloves of roasted garlic, tomatoes, sweet red peppers, and mushrooms. I swear each flavor exploded on my tongue as I chewed and swallowed, licking any residue off my lips.

"It's good, right?" Isa chirped before taking a bite out of her own.

"Practically orgasmic," I mumbled around a mouthful of it.

She laughed and tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. "As good as that duck I made on our third date?" she teased.

"It's a close second," I admitted, much to her amusement. All conversation ceased as we tucked into our food, little moans and grunts of appreciation the only thing breaking the silence between us.

"I want to discuss some of our limits," I started once I was done eating, cleaning my face and hands on a wet wipe which was in her bag. "I know we've previously gone over them, but now that we have a clearer idea on what we like and dislike, I think we should go over them again and see if our limits have changed."

She nodded in agreement and placed an overstuffed box of biscotti and pastries between us. "That makes sense. I know that there are certain things that I would like to delve deeper into."

I was immediately curious and intrigued. "Anything specific?" I questioned.

"Uhmm...forced nudity? I would like to try that," she said shyly. She'd previously not really been interested in that aspect, wanting to focus more heavily on the basics for her needs.

I took a bite of a flakey, spiced apple filled pastry, chewing slowly before swallowing. "I'm sure we can work something out. I want to bring up bathroom control as something to be reevaluated. I know it makes you a little squeamish, but I think it worked out in our last scene."

She groaned softly, hiding her face in her palms. "That was so embarrassing."

I cocked my head to the side, watching her intently. "Why, because I controlled and embarrassed you so thoroughly by making you go when I was pressed up right against you or because you enjoyed it?"

I spoke matter-of-factly without specific inflection in my tone, already knowing the answer to my question by the way he cheeks bloomed with color. Though she might deny it, minor humiliation aroused her, and—to me—that was a good quality for her to have as my Little. Every move I had made had been calculated, and I was slowly honing in on the art of manipulating her body so thoroughly that it took me little to no effort to bring her to the place she needed to be. I was training and coaxing her body to react to the dominant inside of me, and each time she slipped into her space with greater ease. It was becoming natural for her to act small and young, knowing that I was there to anchor her, in both body and mind.

Looking back, I could see that from the very beginning, I had used embarrassment and minor humiliation as a tool to help her feel small and vulnerable. It aroused her, while simultaneously forcing her to become dependent on me in a way that she couldn't achieve by herself. So much of BDSM was of the mind, and I used her subtle tells to find her triggers and use them to my advantage.

"Isa, it's nothing to be ashamed of," I soothed her, wanting her to know that how she felt and reacted was completely normal. "I get off on making you do those kind of things as much as you get off on doing them. Though, it does beg the question of how you would have reacted if I had rebuffed your request to wipe yourself and had done it personally."

She didn't answer straight away, but the subtle and unintentional signs of her desire said everything she couldn't. Her skin flushed and her pupils dilated as she blinked slowly, her tongue peeked out and ran slowly slowly over her plump lips as she struggled to formulate a response.

"I…" She paused, her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she glanced across the park, her fingers fidgeting. "It would have done what you set out for it to do."

I would have loved for her to admit to her arousal verbally, but she wasn't quite at that point yet, so I didn't push her for more.

Our bubble was burst by the appearance of Minion. She trotted over, tongue flopped out of her mouth as she panted heavily, tired from running around. She slumped down in the shade by Isa's side, and Isa stroked her behind her ears just how she liked it.

"You tired, baby?" Isa cooed, to which Mini answered with a huff.

"Maybe we should head on home?" I suggested before realizing what I had said. "I mean, your home."

If she noticed my slip, she made no mention of it, simply agreeing as she started to gather up all our stuff.

"Oh, that reminds me," Isa said as we stared walked back to her place, the blanket and bag in my hands while she held the dog's leash. "I know we both marked exhibition as something we were interested in, and I was thinking that maybe, if you agreed, that I could start a blog about us."

"What kind of blog?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea of which direction her mind was heading in.

"A kinky one. It'll be like a journal of our time together and our journey through all this. I know that before I found out about my fetish, it was blogs that guided me in the right direction. Seeing people's real life quests into D/s inspired me, and to think that I, in turn, could do that for someone else excites me."

"So what, you want to write about all the dirty things I do to you?"

"Well, yes, but I also want others to see the intimacy we share through exploring our fetish, and maybe once we work up to it, we can maybe post some pictures and videos," she suggested. "Anonymously, of course."

I thought about what she said, my mind whirring with the possibilities. I couldn't deny that it turned me on to imagine what she was suggesting, never having been one to shy away from my own nudity. I knew Isa was also comfortable and confident in her body, but I was a little uncertain as to how I would react to others being able to see her—even partially naked—anonymous or not.

"A big part of me says yes, but I can't accurately anticipate how I would react to others seeing and commenting on any pictures or videos of you. You evoke the possessiveness inside me, and sometimes it's hard to control. I don't want to come off as insecure or as though I don't trust you, but you're mine, and I don't want others coming between what we have."

She seemed to think over her answer carefully before she spoke. "I guess I can understand where you're coming from, but we won't know unless we try. No one will actually know who either of us are—I would never jeopardize either one of our reputations like that—and maybe if we start slowly, we can both acclimate ourselves to it. Who knows, maybe I'll be the possessive one when all those hussies comment on my boyfriend and Daddy's hot body."

I laughed, relieved that instead of dismissing my concerns, she had taken them into consideration while also making light of it.

"I guess all that running does pay off," I teased, pretending to preen and flex my muscles.

She elbowed me softly in the gut. "Oh, get over yourself," she scoffed, though there was a laugh in her tone and in her eyes.

I drew her closer into my side, smiling to myself as she burrowed her face in my T-shirt, inhaling deeply. My hand slipped beneath the hem of her top, gliding my fingers over the soft, warm skin of her hip, pelvis and stomach. She squirmed, her steps faltering, but didn't comment or protest.

We finished the walk to her apartment in silence, immersed in a bubble of our own making. A twinge of anticipation fluttered in my gut as she unlocked the door to her apartment, taking off Minion's muzzle before bending over to unleash her. I took that time to ogle her ass in her jeans, the material molding around the round curves of her cheeks perfectly. When she straightened up, I took her hand and led her to her bedroom.

I grabbed the brush off her nightstand and sat the edge of her bed, my legs spread to make room for her body. I quirked an eyebrow at her, loving the shy smile curled up on her lips as she slipped silently over to where I was sitting. I hooked my fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, coaxing her body closer until she stood between my thighs.

My fingers worked deftly, undoing the button and sliding down the zipper of her jeans before I tugged them down her legs, leaving her in a pair of cute polka dotted panties. She stepped out of her jeans and kicked them to the side, and I turned her to sit between my legs.

She placed her palms flat against my thighs, the tips of her fingers rubbing against the material of my jeans as she snuggled deeper so that my hard cock nestled between her ass cheeks. I held back a groan, feeling my cock twitch as it registered how close it was to her pussy and adjusted myself into a more comfortable position.

I gathered her hair in my hands, welcoming the distraction, and pulled it all back over her shoulders before running the brush through her dark tresses. Though the action of brushing her hair was simple, it helped to relax both of us and washed away any lingering negative tension. There was a certain eroticism that came with it which mixed in with the intimacy. It moved liked the ebb and flow of a wave, slowly creeping up before receding, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled us into a peaceful, zen-like state. It was the perfect way to start a scene because it cleared our minds and centered us, allowing us to focus solely on the present.

I forewent doing anything elaborate, simply winding her hair into a loose braid that fell down her back. I twisted a hair tie into the base of the braid, securing it tightly.

"Princess," I murmured, leaning forward to speak directly into her ear. "I want you to put on something comfortable and easy to remove that you can wear in public, and make sure it has buttons down the front, okay?"

She shivered, whether it was from my words or the way my breath tickled her skin, I wasn't certain, but she nodded her assent and that was all I needed. "Yes, Daddy."

With Isa distracted, I went over to my overnight bag and rummaged through it until I found the collar I had purchased for her. I had placed it in a nondescript jewelry box, the hard black case light as I weighed the box in my hands.

Isa didn't take long to reappear, dressed in a strapless blue plaid dress with pale pink accents that dipped down a little between her breasts where the buttons started, giving a hint of the swells of her breasts. Below her breasts, the fabric twisted into a bow before continuing down, stopping at mid-thigh. Thigh high pink socks that had little bows at the top left only a sliver of her skin bare between her socks and dress. Heeled, lace-up ankle boots in faded navy gave her a couple of extra inches of height, but still held a certain innocent sexiness that always had my cock standing at attention.

I made a motion for her to twirl, making her spin for me so that I could get the full effect. The hem of her dress swished around the tops of her thighs, skimming the curve of her ass but not actually showing anything.

"Lift your skirt up," I instructed. She grasped it, her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and arousal as inch by inch she eased the fabric higher until her deep purple, ruffled panties were visible, the material so thin that it was almost transparent.

"Come here." I curled my finger at her in a come hither gesture, and she walked over, hands clasped behind her back as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "I wanted to get you something special that not only said that you were mine, but showed you how much you mean to me. It's a pledge from me to you that, as your Daddy, I will protect you, care for you, do everything in my power to keep you safe from all harm—even if it is from myself—and never abuse your trust ."

She seemed cautious but excited when I offered the box to her, casting me a wary glance before she took it and slowly opened the lid. Nervous anticipation thrummed through my body as she let out a gasp of surprise, her fingers reaching out to touch the pink leather almost reverently.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, her tone laced with awe.

"And look," I told her, taking it from her grasp. "When I collar you, I will use this key to lock the padlock…"

I demonstrated, twisting the key in the heart-shaped padlock to show that the collar couldn't be removed without the key, which was in my possession.

She ohh'ed appropriately, her eyes wide and eager.

"I need you to promise me something before I collar you," I told her seriously. "I need you to promise me that this collar will be a reminder of trust, honesty, communication, and intimacy. If at any time, those things are no longer represented when you wear it, I want you to safe word immediately and refuse to wear it. I will ask you each time if I may have the esteemed privilege of collaring you, and it is up to you whether you accept it or reject it."

I held eye contact with her to convey the gravity of my words.

"I promise to only wear your collar when trust, honesty, communication, and intimacy are represented. I pledge to be the best Little I can be, to obey without hesitation, to trust without doubt, submit to you in both body and in mind, and give my best in everything you ask of me."

"And do you accept my collar?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Her words were all the confirmation I needed as I opened the collar and moved to place it on her. She lifted her hair off the back of her neck, her breath stuttering as the cool leather wrapped around her throat. I buckled and padlocked it securely, holding back the groan that bubbled up at seeing her marked as mine. The pale pink of the collar complemented her skin as it sat at the hollow of her throat. I had added a little tag with 'Daddy's Princess' etched into it, and I truly felt like she was mine now. Her eyelids closed briefly as she fingered her collar, acclimating herself to the feel of the leather restraining her from the inside out.

"Once playtime is over, I will give you your everyday collar," I informed her, remembering the simple gold band with a bow I had also purchased for her. "I will expect you to wear it at all times unless you are wearing your other collar. But for now, I want to focus on one of your limits: body modification. Are you still up for having your nipples pierced?"

She bobbed her head up and down vigorously, a few tendrils of hair escaping and falling into her face. She pushed them aside impatiently, tucking them behind her ear as she answered. "Yes, Daddy."

"I know we've both been busy recently and haven't gotten around to it, but I know you were eager to get them done, so I took the liberty of booking you an appointment for today at a special place that caters to people just like us."

Her eyes widened and her plump lips formed a surprised 'o' as she understood what I was saying. This was the first time that I had brought her into any environment that was anything like the dynamic we shared, and I knew the prospect was daunting for the both of us.

"What color are you?" I questioned.

"Green," she said, nervously gnawing at the flesh of her bottom lip. I stared deep into her eyes, not allowing her to shy away from my gaze as I searched them for the assurance I needed. It wasn't that I didn't trust her words; it was the fact that her need to please me sometimes outweighed her self-preservation, forcing me to play devil's advocate.

Once I was confident that she wasn't bluffing, I directed her to put on a cardigan while I pulled a soft, grey, v-neck sweater over my T-shirt. I pushed the sleeves up to my elbows and swept a hand through my hair, doing more harm than good to the unruly mop.

I could feel the trepidation she was emitting as I guided her out of her apartment. This was the first time she would be outside as my little girl, and by the way she clung to my side and peeked around shyly, she expected people to be able to notice how different she was. What she didn't understand was that most of the change took place inside, and while, yes, the innocence she possessed at these times was visible, it wasn't something that would be seen as negative.

She nibbled on her lip and fingered her collar, finding comfort in the confirmation that she was mine. I guided her into a taxi, sliding in next to her as I gave the driver the address I needed. It was strange to be outside, exposed and vulnerable, when I was used to being confined in Isa's apartment. I stroked Isa's thigh, letting my fingers glide higher before dipping down to skim over the inside of her thigh. She automatically spread her thighs more, and I leaned back, projecting the persona of someone who was calm and comfortable.

Her lips parted, pouting forward as I massaged her pussy over her panties, feeling the material dampen. She squirmed, swallowing tightly as her lids fluttered, but kept silent. Her hands balled into fists, her fingers flexing as I ran the back of my knuckles across her clit. My ministrations were sufficient in distracting her enough for her to forget her surroundings, but didn't give her the required amount of friction she needed to cum.

"Daddy," she whimpered, attempting to gain more pressure by rolling her hips forward, only to have me take my hand away. She buried her face in my neck, her hot little pants of breath making goosebumps rise on my skin.

"Princess," I murmured. "You cum when I say you can. Your orgasms belong solely to me now, and I expect you to ask for permission each time you need to cum unless I say otherwise. Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded, though I could hear the reluctance in her tone as she mumbled a quiet, "Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," I praised her as the cab pulled up to the curb.

I thrust a couple of bills in the direction of the driver, telling him to keep the change as I stepped out and walked around to open the door on Isa's side. She took my offered hand and joined me on the sidewalk. Her arousal was clear in the flush of her cheeks and brightness of her eyes, and I couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride and smugness.

"There are a few things that you're going to have to remember while we are here," I told her. "You are to stand to my left, two steps behind me at all times and keep your eyes on the floor unless I tell you otherwise. You won't be required to say anything as I will be doing all the talking, but you are to be respectful and polite. Make no attempt to touch anyone except me and don't let anyone touch you without my command. If at any point you are unsure or uncomfortable, you are to gain my attention immediately and inform me of the problem. Do you remember your safeword?"

She nodded. "Vanilla."

I was pleased to hear that her voice was confident and didn't waver; her nerves seemed to have diminished on the journey over.

"Repeat what I just told you," I demanded, wanting to make sure she had taken it all in.

She let out a long breath. "Stand two steps behind you to your left and keep my eyes on the floor. Be respectful and polite, but let you do the talking. Don't touch anyone and don't let anyone touch me unless you say its okay. If I'm unsure or uncomfortable inform you immediately of the problem, and remember my safeword," she recited."

"Good girl." I planted a kiss on her forehead and started toward the tattoo parlor, Steel and Ink. It was Madame Rosa who had recommended the place to me, her sub, Felix—a.k.a. Muscles—was the owner of the establishment. I knew Isa held some slight trepidation when it came to needles, and since nipples were said to be one of the most painful parts of the body to pierce, it wasn't a stretch for me to realize that the process would go a lot easier if we were in an environment where she could lean fully on me. I had taken the choice out of her hands completely, creating a scenario where she didn't have to make any decisions or really put forth any effort that could end up with her changing her mind.

The bell above the door tinkled, catching the attention of the pink-haired woman with colorful tattoo sleeves behind the counter as we walked in, Isa keeping the appropriate distance behind me.

"Good afternoon, Sir. Do you have an appointment?" she inquired, a small smile playing at her lips. She surveyed us nonchalently, barely blinking at the sight of Isa's collar. While the woman didn't seem to be either a sub or Dom, it was obvious that she was used to seeing people like us come into the shop.

"Yes, I'm a little early, but I booked the two o'clock slot."

Her smile widened and her baby blue eyes sparkled. "Of course. We spoke on the phone earlier this week. You must be Edward and the cutie next to you must be your Little, Isabella."

Isa kept her eyes trained on the floor and stayed silent, her hands clasped behind her back. I was pleased that she was following my instructions without faltering, and I turned my attention back to the woman behind the counter.

"Heidi, right?" I guessed, recognizing her voice now that she had mentioned our phone call.

"That's me," she chirped. "I just need you fill out some paperwork and show some ID, and you will be good to go."

She took out a clipboard and a pen, while I took out Isa's drivers license which I had swiped from her bag this morning. She checked it over before handing it back along with clipboard.

"Make yourself comfortable while you fill that out and then we can get started."

I led Isa over to the waiting area, settling myself in a worn, leather overstuffed armchair. Isa hesitated a moment, her eyes raising to meet mine in a silent question before I pulled her to sit across my lap. She snuggled against me, tucking her legs beneath her as she rested her head on my shoulder.

It didn't take long to fill out the paperwork, most of it being about her health, allergies and the risks of infection. Once it was done, I handed it back to Heidi who looked it over before storing it away.

"Alright then, if you want to follow me to the back, we can get started."

She led us into a back room, and I helped Isa up onto the piercing station while Heidi washed her hands and donned latex gloves.

"Okay," Heidi said brightly. "I'm going to give you a quick run through of what is going to happen. First, I'm going to numb the area with some ice, which will also cause your nipples to pebble. I'll then wipe the area with disinfectant and mark where the needle will go before I clamp the nipple with a specially made clamp. Then, using a piercing needle, I will quickly pierce the nipple horizontally, leaving behind a small plastic tube. I'll then place the chosen bar through the tubing—the tubing keeps the piercing open so the bar can go through—and then remove the tubing, screwing the balls onto each end. There will be minimal to no bleeding, and the pain generally doesn't fully kick in till later. I'll give you a run through on how to take care of your piercing once it is done. Any questions?"

I glanced over at Isa who looked like she was attempting to chew right through her bottom lip. She swallowed, her gaze fixed on her lap as she slowly shook her head.

I placed a hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at me. "What color are you, Princess?"

"Green," she mumbled.

"You don't have to do this if you're not ready," I reminded her.

She shook her head vigorously. "I want it. I just…can I sit on your lap?"

I glanced over at Heidi, quirking an eyebrow in question.

She shrugged. "It's a bit of an unorthodox request, but as long as you don't jostle her or get in the way, I don't see why not."  
Isa immediately perked up at that, beaming at me. I chuckled and picked her up and sat down in the chair, my arms wrapping around her waist. She wiggled and squirmed until she was comfortable, her body relaxed as she leaned back against me.

"Okay, you need to remove your top, and then we can get started. Do you know what gauge you want?"

"Twelve," I answered, knowing from an earlier discussion we'd had on the semantics of the whole process.

"And it's a horizontal barbell you want?"

"Yes."

"Great. Let's get started then."

Isa looked up at me for guidance, and I leaned over, unbuttoning the top of her dress and folding it down beneath her breasts, exposing them. She shuddered as Heidi ran the ice over her nipples, pressing herself further into me and grasping my hands tightly in hers.

The whole process went by more quickly than I was expecting; the room was quiet apart from the low hum of music coming from the next room. Isa hissed when the clamp went on her nipple after it had been marked, securing it in place while Heidi picked up the piercing needle.

"Breathe in," she instructed Isa. "Good. Now, breathe out. Aaand... breathe in...breathe out..." And then she slid the needle in.

Isa gave a little pained whimper as she started to squirm, her grip on my hands painful.

"You okay to continue?" Heidi asked, concerned.

Isa bobbed her head up and down frantically in a yes, and Heidi's eyes slid over to meet mine for confirmation. I didn't see the point in stopping halfway through, and it would probably do her more harm to stop now and come back later than to just get it over with in one sitting. I lowered my mouth to Isa's ear, murmuring how proud I was of her and that she would get a reward afterward.

"Ice cream," she mumbled.

"Hmmm?"

"I want ice cream for my reward," she clarified.

"Well, if you're a good girl and sit still then Daddy will take you get ice cream in any flavor you want."

"M'kay."

I gave Heidi a nod to continue, and she shifted to do the other side.

It took less than fifteen minutes to get both her nipples pierced, and we left with strict instructions on how to take care of them as they healed. There would be no hard cupped bras for Isa for at least a month, and she was to clean them with soap and water, and tea tree oil for crustiness and to help keep any infections at bay.

We stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up some Ben and Jerry's, as I had promised her, and spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch watching movies. Now that we had established a clearer picture on where we wanted to take our relationship, it was easier to relax and drop our guard completely around each other. Isa was no longer hesitant to call me 'Daddy' now that she was certain that my need matched her own, and her collars helped reaffirm that.

They were a constant reminder of my ownership of her, and I caught her playing with her everyday collar—a simple gold cuff twisted into a bow—more than once. It created a new dynamic between us that settled halfway between our old one as we meshed the two parts of our lives together. I could see us expanding, spreading our wings wider as we took to the sky. Today was only the start of the evolution of our journey, and I found myself excitedly anticipating our future because, together, we were unstoppable.

**AN:**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: What the hell is wrong with Carlisle?**  
**A: Lol, not how you imagined their first meeting to go, huh? I prefer to hear your theories on the matter instead of giving away secrets that you'll learn later on 'cause I'm evil like that.**

**Q:Does Carlisle know about the daddy/little girl play in Edward and Isa's relationship?**  
**A:I hope not!...but you never know with these characters. I swear they have minds of their own. *shakes head***

**Q:Will Emmett be following Edward into Madame Rose's world or is he already there**  
**with the family being unaware if his predilections?**  
**A: Emmett...hmmm, the lovable brother. All I'm going to tell you is that we'll be seeing more of him as the chapters go by. He has some soul searching to do.**

**Q: Is this new found acknowledgment of their need to increase playtime**  
**heading in the direction of a 24/7 agreement?**  
**A: Ohhh, I think this chapter gave you more insight on this questioned, but in case it didn't. Yeah, they are heading in that direction, but they have to work out how to balance everything first.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 15**

**AN: Thanks to Darcysmom and torisufergirl for betaing and to all you who reviewed!**

**Playlist:**

**Skinny Love by Bon Ivor**  
**King and Lionheart by Monsters and Men**  
**Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Ray**  
**Lego House by Ed Sheeran**  
**Who's Laughing Now by Jessie J**

**...**

I sauntered out of the bathroom, using the towel slung casually around my neck to pat down my freshly shaved jaw. My sweatpants sagged at my waist, clinging to the edges of my narrow hips as the front dipped forward to show the line of my pelvis.

I stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, a smile creeping its way up my lips as I took in the sight before me. Isa lay sound asleep on my bed—sprawled out, one leg hitched up as it tangled in the sheets.

I'd put her down for a nap an hour ago—something that she had fought me on every step of the way—to make up for her late night the day before. It had taken the threat of a spanking to get her into bed, though she continued grumbling until she'd drifted off. I only hoped getting her up would be an easier task.

The straps of her tank top had slipped off her shoulders, baring one of her breasts which lay on the arm that was tucked beneath her head. The glint of metal through her nipple caught my attention, and though I hadn't been able touch her nipples since she'd got them pierced—they were sore and achy while they healed—I still appreciated the sight.

My gaze drifted down her body, and I stifled a groan as I noticed her free hand wedged between her toned thighs. I was slightly disappointed that her tank top was long enough to hide her hand and ass, the thin material only giving the shadow of what lay beneath.

Her legs were covered by thigh high socks, the sheets twisted around them. Her expression was serene, making her look young and untroubled as her lips pouted forward.

A soft mewl escaped her as she shifted, rocking her hips forward and grinding them against her hand. She was completely unaware of my presence as she started bucking against her hand, spreading her legs farther apart. My hand drifted down to the front of my pants where my cock was slowly coming to life. I slid my palm down along the length, squeezing the shaft of my cock through the thin material of my sweatpants.

I watched her, staring unabashedly as I pressed my thumb against the tip of my swelling cock, feeling the wetness of my precum seep through. I pushed off the doorway and stalked forward, moving across the room quicker than I thought possible and crawled up the length of the bed until I was hovering over her restless body.

I reached out and pushed her wayward hair out of her face, watching her brows furrow and her lips pucker.

"Princess, it's time to wake up," I murmured.

She mumbled something, smacking her lips together as she stirred, but didn't wake.

"Princess," I coaxed, swiping my thumb over her bottom lip. This time she groaned softly and rolled over onto her back. I held back a groan when the bottom of her tank top bunched up higher, slipping up over her hips to her waist, giving me a clear view of her bare pussy as I thumbed her bottom lip. The nudge of my knee against her thigh made her legs spread enough for me to gaze down at her folds, her earlier ministrations making them pink and swollen.

Her mouth opened reflexively, flashing me her pearly teeth as she arched up and took my teasing thumb between her lips. She didn't hesitate to latch on, enveloping it in wet heat. I suppressed a shudder as my arousal climbed higher, the soft nip of her teeth and the velvet of her tongue erotic.

I leaned over her, using my free hands to tug my sweats down my thighs. I fisted my cock, stroking it as I positioned myself, my hips nestling between her thighs. I dragged the bulbous tip along the length of her pussy, swirling it in the wetness that had collected and hissing at the heat that enveloped it.

It was only after I had guided myself down to her entrance, nudging the tip there that her eyes fluttered open. Her thick lashes cast shadows across her cheeks as she blinked slowly, sleep still clinging to the corners of her brown eyes. She seemed confused for a moment as I placed the hand not poised between her lips by her head and thrust into her body in one swift movement.

Her lips parted in a gasp as her back arched and her arms flailed before finding purchase around my neck.

"Hmmm, Daddy," she mumbled around my thumb, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing quickened.

"Does this feel good, Princess?" I asked, hitching her thigh over my hips. The gasp that flew from her lips as I swiveled my hips was filled with desire, the tilt of my hips causing her clit to graze my pelvis.

"It tickles," she answered, a certain coyness in her tone.

"Where does it tickle?"

She paused, the constant drive of my hips forcing her to take a moment to try and think past the pleasure. She let out a breathless hum, swiping her tongue over her plump lips as she panted lightly.

"In my naughty place," she answered sweetly.

"Your naughty place?" I reiterated.

"Uh huh, my kitty."

Her words, spoken so simply and innocently, stoked the flames of my arousal. I loved; the way her sweet voice wrapped around the words making them sound so dirty. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and her hair was still mussed from sleep, yet she had never been more beautiful to me. I trailed a hand down her waist, clutching the back of her thigh, and pulled her further into me. I moaned, long and low, as her walls clenched around me, my thrusts gaining aggression.

Lust flared up inside of me, surging through my veins as she rocked her hips, matching my rhythm, gasps and moans falling from her lips. I dipped my head down, angling my face so that our lips were hovering over each other. Quiet pants escaped us as we waited, lips parted and quivering, in anticipation. My gaze flickered between her lips and eyes, gauging and measuring the depth of her desire before closing the distance between us.

The kiss started out light and chaste, a brush of skin against another, but it didn't make it any less meaningful or passionate. Her fingers played with the hairs on the nape of my neck as I savored her, familiarizing myself with every corner of her lips. Our mouths moved against each other slowly, tasting each other as we sucked and nipped at each other's lips.

There was purpose and intent behind my kiss, and she responded to it, surrendering. Her soft, warm lips yielded beneath mine and her body softened, melting into me. A soft moan escaped her as I sucked the plump flesh of her top lip into my mouth. I kissed her like I owned her, and she gave in happily, allowing my control to soothe her and wrap her in its grasp.

My tongue delved into her mouth, slipping effortlessly between her parted lips and causing her to mewl.

"Hmm, Daddy," she breathed, her voice sweet and filled with desire. She tilted her head to the side as her tongue flicked out, boldly darting between my lips to mingle with my own.

I hummed low in my throat as I grasped the hem of her top, tugging it down until both of her breasts were freed. She tore her lips from mine, breathing heavily as she pushed at my shoulder, silently asking for me to switch our positions. I held her close against me as I rolled over, placing her over me. She sat up, peeking at me from beneath her lashes, biting down on her swollen lip coyly as she started to move over me, her hips undulating.

Her breasts bounced and jiggled as she gyrated and ground down on me. She was unbound and free as she slithered back and forth over me. The pads of my fingers dug into her hips as I guided her over my cock, rocking my hips up into hers. She threw her head back as I grazed my thumb over her clit, her arms raising as she pushed her hair back over her shoulders, exposing her body more to my feasting eyes.

Our bodies pushed and pulled, pressing forward before receding like waves hitting the shore. I cupped one side of her neck while I pushed myself up into a sitting position, my lips latching onto her throat. I drew her skin into my mouth and sucked it as my teeth nipped and my tongue laved, marking her for all to see.

I worked her clit over with a practiced hand, anticipating each one of her reactions. She was swollen and hot beneath my fingers as I played her like an instrument, coaxing music from her body, the chorus of sighs and soft moans my notes. Her thighs quivered and her muscles tightened with anticipation. I was relentless in my goal, my fingers precise in their action as my hand slipped from her neck.

Her walls fluttered around me and her hips faltered as she came closer to her release. Her skin was flushed, a light sheen of sweat forming on her skin. She wrapped an arm around my neck, her fingers threading through my hair. She clung to me, pressing her body flush with mine and tucking her face into my neck. Small whimpers escaped her as she let go, shudders rippling across her skin.

Her hips rolled softly as she rode the waves of her release, and I continued to thrust up into her, my own release close. I could feel my balls lift and tighten as I rolled us back over. Her legs wrapped securely around my waist as I fucked her, grunts and groans leaving my lips as I came, spilling inside her.

My arms shook as I forced myself not to collapse on top of her, my limbs almost boneless as I pulled out and rolled to lie next to her. Our breathing was loud while we tried to regulate it, the numbers flashing on the digital clock on her bedside table causing me to curse.

"Fuck, we need to get up."

She tilted her head in my direction, her expression serene as she practically glowed.

"Do I have time to take a shower?" she asked.

"A quick one," I countered, though I leaned over to kiss her, pinning her slightly beneath me as I explored her mouth.

"Wanna join me?" she asked, once I'd detached myself from her.

"Thought you'd never ask."

It took us a full hour to leave my apartment; both of us having been easily distracted in the shower, but traffic had been light, so we were still on schedule.

The sun reflected off Isa's hair as we walked the last two blocks to the hotel, bringing out the auburn tints in the loose, glossy curls that tumbled from beneath her beanie, obscuring most of her face. Her huge sunglasses were perched on her nose, hiding her eyes behind dark, tinted glass as she twirled, the hem of her high-waisted, black, pleated skirt flaring up. It swished around her thighs, the thin, black tights she wore light in comparison to the thigh high black socks she had over them. The tops of her socks stopped an inch or two from the bottom of her skirt as it settled, Isa's hand flexing and tightening their hold on mine, our fingers twined securely as she walked backward.

"Daddy," she whined softly, the cute pout she accompanied it with making her bottom lip jutt out.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop a smile that twitched up at the corners of my lips.

"Nice try, Princess, but you've already had two cups of coffee today. You know three cups is your limit, and we both know you're going to want one later. "

She huffed, but let me tug her toward me so that she was nestled into my side. I planted a kiss on the side of her head, inhaling her familiar scent as I made her giggle by purposefully rubbing my stubble against her cheek.

Isa had really embraced the Little inside of her now that we had reestablished our boundaries, and I could see the little girl seeping into all facets of her life. Even the way she was dressed today, her long sleeved black and white striped shirt tucked into her skirt with a short leather jacket gave her a youthful yet sexy look, especially paired with her thigh high socks and lace up black, low-heeled boots.

She had a thick, woolen, black scarf wrapped around her neck and a black, leather messenger bag draped over her shoulder. She still looked like the Isa I had first met, yet the extra spring in her steps told me that her wings had been unclipped, allowing her to spread her wings fully and fly.

We had moved forward in this aspect of our relationship, the ease in which we had integrated it into the rest of our relationship a testimony to just how right this step was. That wasn't to say that we weren't still getting used to embracing our roles so fully, and there had been more than one occasion when we had both become overwhelmed to the point that we'd had to take a step back and evaluate the situation.

Isa was struggling with her new rules. She had been following them for two weeks so far, and as I had predicted, it was the curfew that she struggled with the most.

It was a source of frustration for her, and resulted in me having to discipline her rather harshly more than once. Each day that her curfew passed broken she earned ten spanks. So, you can imagine that when she only managed to get to bed at the right time twice the first week that she was sporting a rather sore, red ass that she couldn't sit comfortably on for a few days.

She was learning, slowly but surely, but it was something that would take some time. It wasn't something that I begrudged her of, instead, I simply corrected her and allowed her the room she needed to grow and work on this aspect that she was struggling to grasp.

Isa had always been relaxed when it comes to deadlines and timetables, always going with the flow of life. It wasn't that she couldn't get to places on time or that she was lazy, it was more that she liked to leave things to the last minute. I had given her my advice, which was for her to simply end her evening earlier so that she would have time to get everything she forgot to do finished in enough time for her to be in bed by her ten-thirty curfew.

Things were going relatively smoothly, but that didn't stop me from continuing my search for someone outside our relationship, a mentor, to give us some guidance. I was a lot more comfortable and confident in my ability to be a good Daddy for Isa than I had been when we first started out, but my knowledge only extended to a certain level, and I knew that at some point I was bound to fuck up.

Madame Rosa had been a Godsend. Her contacts within the community stretching across the city. I had, at first, asked if she could be that mentor for us, but she was already training three subs, plus, she felt like that she couldn't give me the guidance I really needed since she didn't specialize in Age Play.

I had all but given up hope when Madame Rosa had called last week with news of a prospective mentor. It seemed that a Daddy, Garrett Silverston, she was in contact with had recently moved back to the city. He had been a very popular Dom in the community, but had relocated to North Carolina for a few years. I had been cautiously optimistic as Madame Rosa spoke of his experience in training Daddy's and Littles, but the fact that sold me on him was that he'd navigated through the same waters as I was currently wading through.

His wife, Kate, was also his Little. They had met at one of Madame Rosa's parties—something she'd made sure to emphasize more than once—and they had clicked. She had been curious about the lifestyle and by the end of the night, she had left on his arm. He had trained her from scratch, but their attraction had extended outside of the playroom, and they had explored it. As far as Madame Rosa was concerned, we'd be a match made in heaven since he wouldn't be a hands on teacher, instead he was happy to observe and demonstrate.

I had talked it over with Isa before accepting the invitation for us to meet with Garrett and his wife for afternoon tea at the Two E Bar inside the Pierre Hotel. I was glad things would be in a relaxed setting, the nervous tension between Isa and I was already bubbling to the surface at what could come to pass.

"I like this sweater," Isa announced, fingering the hem of my v-neck burgundy sweater as we stepped into the hotel.

I chuckled, "That's because you bought it for me."

She shrugged, unperturbed by that revelation. "While I can't deny that my fashion sense didn't lead me astray on that particular shopping excursion, the color really brings out your eyes," she said.

I couldn't deny that I had made an effort to look nice by pairing my sweater with some tan skinny pants and black chucks. I wanted to make a good impression while still being myself.

We entered the Two E Bar. The atmosphere was low key and more modern than most places that served afternoon tea. The tables were low and the lights were a notch or two dimmer, giving it a more seductive vibe. The tea pots, cups and saucers were all made from glass instead of the usual china, yet there was still a certain standard in place that said that not just anyone came here.

We navigated our way between tables to where Garrett and Kate were seated in the corner by the window with an exceptional view. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but they both seemed pretty laid back and relaxed, smiling and talking just like any other couple.

They both stood when we approached, Garrett's tall frame towering over his wife's. "You must be Edward," he greeted, reaching for my outstretched hand. There was a twinkle in his eyes and an easy grin on his face that immediately calmed my nerves. I guessed him to be a few years older than me—something I was thankful for because I didn't think I could take someone younger than me very seriously—with dark brown, unkempt hair pushed back into a relatively neat bouffant and thick scruff merging into a slight beard. His shirt was rumpled with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, yet his presence commanded respect in a way that was both subtle and intimidating.

"That would be me." Our handshake was firm as he appraised me without exerting his dominance over me, his experience giving him the lenience to do so. "And this is my girlfriend, Isa."

He released my hand, turning his attention to Isa. He cocked a brow in my direction, silently asking for permission to touch her. I nodded, and he shook her hand, keeping it brief but pleasant before retracting his hand.

"Good to meet you. I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Kate," he said, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist.

She smiled, her deep brown eyes framed by thick lashes as she looked up at me, her features petite and elegant. Her dark blonde hair was short and almost boyish, yet it made her look impish and complemented her bone structure, making her delicate features more pronounced and feminine. Freckles decorated her nose and cheeks, taking years off what I was sure was her actual age.

"It's nice to meet you," she greeted, her voice soft and sweet as she clasped her hands in front of her. She was dressed casually in jeans and a cream t-shirt with "Be Mine" scrawled across the front and a bow sewn next to it.

Garrett motioned for us to sit, and I helped Isa out of her jacket, draping it over the back of her chair as she gracefully took her seat. I tucked her chair in while she removed her hat and sunglasses, stowing them in her bag. I slid into the seat next to her, casually resting my hand on her thigh as I shifted into a comfortable position.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering us tea, it's just that the best teas are off menu here, and this particular one is a favorite of mine," he explained, lifting the glass tea pot to pour some in his tea cup. "It's a lovely blend of chamomile, fresh orange and lemon slices, honey, and cinnamon sticks."

My first instinct was to check with Isa to make sure she was alright with that, and upon seeing her nod, I easily agreed.

"That's perfectly fine. I never know what to order anyway."

"Great. Please help yourself to anything on the table. The caramel éclairs are especially addictive."

We helped ourselves to sweet ginger scones with Devonshire cream and lemon curd, and mini lemon meringues while Garrett finished pouring the tea.

"So," Garrett started, cradling his tea in his hands. "How did you two meet?"

Isa and I shared a glance, a secret smile playing on our lips as we thought back to that fateful day. "I guess you could say that we met by coincidence. I'd never seen her before that day, though I frequented Greenwich Village quite often, and I had dropped something on the floor. It was when I glanced up to see if anyone had noticed my blunder that I saw her across the street. She awakened something inside of me that day that had lain dormant for a long time, and I knew that I had to have her. So, I followed her into a cafe at the end of the street and asked if I could sit with her. We spent hours chatting, and I left with her number written in Sharpie on my arm."

"It took him a few days to call me, but he was worth the wait," Isa interjected.

"And when was it that you realized that sexual tastes went deeper than the usual vanilla sex?" he asked, intrigued.

"I guess I'm to blame for that," Isa said with a laugh, her cheeks pinking slightly as she tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. "The Daddy/little lifestyle had intrigued me for a few years before I met Edward, and after meeting him that desire inflamed. Edward is a naturally dominant man, and I could see the familiar characteristics between him and a Daddy. Anyway, he came over to mine after our second date, and I accidentally left some Daddy/little blogs up on my computer while I went to shower. Stupidly, I asked Edward to turn on some music that I had on my computer. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what I had been looking at. I can't begin to tell you how relieved I was when he didn't run for the hills and was open to talking about it."

"I think I was open for a bit more than just talking that day," I joked playfully, sliding my arm over the back of her chair, my fingers playing with a strand of her hair.

"And, Edward, how did you feel when you found out about your girlfriend's darker desires?"

I released a breath, leaning back in my chair while I thought over his question, "At first, I guess I was confused and aroused. I mean, I was familiar with the BDSM community, but I always found the Master/slave dynamic too much for me—entering into a contractual relationship with all those sadistic and masochistic tendencies had never appealed to me—but then Isa started talking about how as a woman she craved being dominated by a man. She told me that she wanted to be pursued, fucked, and possessed by the will of a man, by his bidding, and that she thought that person was me. Her words struck a chord, and maybe I hadn't known it before that day, but somehow I knew that was what I had been missing and longing for in my life. I craved for what she had just described. Her desires fed my need for control, and, honestly, I never even considered for a moment not exploring the fetish."

It was freeing to be able to talk about these kinds of things. None of my friends or family knew about Isa and my mutual fetish, and it was nice to have someone who not only understood, but could give insight on our journey of self-realization.

"It must have been quite an adjustment, balancing both parts of your relationship when everything was all still so new," Garrett mused.

"As strange as it sounds, we kind of fell into it. What I mean to say is that it evolved quite naturally. In the beginning, we were really strict with what we wanted and what we were going to do. We started out small and slowly built up on that on the weekends, while during the week, we stayed vanilla. I guess you could say that it was a balancing act. Over time, though, we've grown to realize that we want something more permanent and twenty-four seven than what we started with. I know Isa trusts me, not just with her body, but with her mind also, and we want to delve deeper into our desires."

Garrett leaned closer, resting his elbows on the table as he regarded me seriously. "That's a lot of responsibility that you're hoping to take on, Edward. I hope you understand that. As a Daddy, you're the strong one, the safe place. The one she'll run to when scared, the one she'll come to with her problems, the one who will shelter her just enough to let her explore life without getting beaten down. Her source of comfort and safety, and the provider of love and pleasure. It is you she'll crawl to when she's aroused and needy. It is you she thinks of when her pussy starts to twitch. You're also the source of structure. She might not need a lot, but sometimes she'll benefit from some lines drawn in the sand, some rules, some rigidity in her life. Someone to help enforce the little that she really wants to be, but can't quite be on her own. It is you she'll confess her transgressions to, and your disappointment in her hurts her more than any punishment you may have to administer. You are the mountain, and she comes to you for what you give her, for what you provide, for everything you are to her.

"But what she doesn't know—the secret that all Daddy's keep—is that you need her just as much as she needs you. Daddy's need to be needed. Sometimes when you hold her, when you cuddle her, it's not for her comfort… it's for yours. When you're stressed, when you're overworked, when you're frustrated, when you're tired… she is your escape, your inspiration, and your reason to go on. Do you think you're ready to shoulder that kind of weight?"

If someone had told me what he had just told me a month ago—hell, even a week—I would have been overwhelmed by the severity and the depth of their meaning, but staring into his steady gaze, the warmth of Isa's back bleeding into the skin of my arm as my fingers swept through her loose curls, I felt an encompassing sense of peace. I didn't falter or hesitate as I answered so simply, yet sincerely that to doubt them would have been absurd.

"Yes."

We stared at each other, barely blinking, the world around us having slowly crumbled away to allow us to fully bask in the moment. Garrett leaned back slowly, a smile curving at the corners of his mouth.

"I like you, Edward. I think you'll do just fine. I won't lie, you've got a ways to go, but I think I'm going to enjoy the challenge of mentoring you. I'll call up my lawyer and have him draw up a contract."

I quirked an eyebrow in question and he waved me off. "It's mainly a formality, but in case things go sour between us, I think it would be wise to have a non-disclosure agreement. I doubt you want your name splashed over the local tabloids."

I nodded, understanding that the contract was less about trust and more about assurance. When emotions were high people tended to do stupid things, and, in light of that, the contract was the smart way to go. Mine and Isa's privacy and reputations were too important not to take some kind of protective action, and I was sure Garrett felt the same.

I had a good feeling about where things were going and by the way Isa was leaning forward across the table, speaking and giggling quietly with Kate, I think she agreed. It would be good for her to have someone—who wasn't me—to talk to about the frustrations and difficulties that came with being a Little.

Kate wasn't shy about sharing her point of view on the situation, drawing Isa deeper as she described her relationship, and I couldn't help but overhear some of what she had to say. "I can be a big girl. I can work really hard, take care of others, handle clients, lead meetings, build teams, raise children, lift weights, run circles around Garrett again and again. But, when it all gets to be a little too much, I just need my Daddy to make me feel small, to slap my face, to push my buttons, to take me far out of my comfort zone and remove me from my place of authority so that I can finally relax."

The two of them had so much in common that it wasn't surprising that they clicked. They were both independent women needing a safe place to rest, away from the trials of their lives. I knew that there were times when the constant push and pull of Isa's life was overwhelming. It was hard for her to truly be herself when different people expected different things from her, and I knew that made her feel like she'd been backed into a corner, trapped without knowing how to escape, which was why she needed me.

The feeling of being needed so desperately could only be described was empowering. She was grappling for some medium of control and stability, and it was me she turned to for guidance. An integral part of me knew that when it all became too much for her, she craved to be helpless, restrained and captured in the snare of my domination. There were times when she needed me to be gentle and nurturing, guiding her to where she wanted to be, but letting her take the steps herself. But more often than not, she felt more connected, owned, if I was forceful.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to fly by as we talked, getting to know each other as well as discussing our limits. We were both in agreement about not sharing, and Garrett was happy to move our mentorship at a slow place. We mapped out a plan for where we wanted to take this and the things we wanted to learn and experience.

I could already see Garrett as a calming force in our lives, his every action seeming subtle yet purposeful. I could see how easily he could play on Kate's triggers, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and stroking softly, his move looking like a loving caress, but her reaction to it showing that there was more to it than that. The best part was that he managed to reduce her to a little girl without so much of a glance in her direction.

He would sip on his tea and chat with me as though he was completely unaware that his wife was becoming a needy girl craving her Daddy. It was quite a sight to behold, and I could see the same intrigue reflected back at me in Isa's eyes, solidifying that we were making the right choice.

We'd been coaxed into their web, the cloying silk ensnaring us and holding us as willing captives. The call of our desires only strengthened in their presence, the churning hunger settling in my gut crying out to be quenched. The need for control settled in my bones and wrapped around my limbs, tugging at my skin in a way that was becoming familiar to me.

I reveled in it, tasting it on the tip of my tongue, feeling it in the curve of my spine. It was freeing, and I allowed myself to embrace it fully. I no longer doubted myself and my abilities to be what Isa needed. By the time we left, the sun dipping down behind the buildings, my confidence had skyrocketed. Garrett had supplied me with many grains of wisdom and tips on the subtleties of domination, and Kate had done the same for Isa.

Our eyes had been opened, our insecurities were laid bare and put to rest, and I knew had turned a significant corner in our relationship. One that would change the way we saw ourselves and each other. One that would bring us closer, that would cultivate an even deeper intimacy between us, and we stepped toward our future without a glance back.

**AN: So, did you like our new characters? Leave me some love!**

**Q: What color was the bar in Isabella's piercings? Was it green, like Edward's eyes?**  
**A: Lol, no, just a silver bar.**

**Q: Is Isa's desire to please her Daddy strong enough to be completely honest in**  
**her journaling, especially where her curfew is concerned?**  
**A: I think this is something that will evolve as the story continues. I don't see her being completely honest at first, but as time goes on, she'll gain confidence and assurance in her place, which will make her able to feel more free with answering honestly.**

**Q: Edward knows he has set her up to fail. How rigid will his punishments be in**  
**the beginning and will they increase in intensity if she doesn't improve her**  
**time table?**  
**A: Well, like Edward mentioned in this chapter, she gets ten spanks for each night she doesn't meet her curfew. If she continues not to follow his rules though, he will start using some kind of implement and other creative ways to administer her punishment.**

**Q: I wonder how long it will be before they start to live together. If they are going into a 24/7 relationship it will be a must that they live together**  
**A: Not for a while. They still need to get the "I love yous" out of the way, but they are being stubborn on that front.**

**Q:Is Isa opposed to EVER having children, or is it just a side of herself she**  
**has not felt the need to explore seeing as she is still rather young?**  
**A: Right now, she has no interest in having children. Whether that will change later on is a different story. But with her childhood, I think she's wary of her child going through the same things she did.**

**Q: Will they make it easily? Or will it get hard to be in Daddy/Little mind set with their lives going on and them having responsibilities throughout the day? **  
**A: I'm afraid that it will be tough at first. Pinging back and forth, trying to be what everyone expects you to be while trying to hold on to who you are isn't easy, so there will be some conflict there.**

**Q: Does Alice know about Isa's kinky side?**  
**A: Not yet, but I think Isa will tell her soon.**

**Q: Will they take it to the next level and have playtime (or modified playtime) in a public**  
**setting?**  
**A: I'm hoping so. Maybe in a couple of chapters.**

**Q:Will you be writing a chapter here and there from Isa's viewpoint? Especially**  
**when the new rules take full effect and she experiences just how they impact**  
**her life?**  
**A: I'd like to. I almost wrote chp 15 in her point of view, but it didn't work out. If the inspiration hits at the right time, then I'll definitely write it. Maybe as part of this story or as outtakes.**

**Q: You said that Emmett will have some soul searching to do, will he come to**  
**realize the lifestyle that Edward and Isa are embarking on and be intrigued by**  
**it? Will he meet Madame Rosa?**  
**A: That is what I'm planning. Edward and Emmett will be having a heart to heart soon.**

**Q: Is Madame Rosa a switch, Domme, or sub? (I don't get the feeling she is a sub, jsyk)**  
**A: She's generally a Domme, but if she likes you enough she just might Switch *wink wink***


	16. Chapter 16

**A Pale Fire**  
**Chapter 16**

**AN: This chapter is dedicated to Lostin Pa for being my muse and soundboard. Thanks to Torisurfergirl for beta'ing this for me.**

**Disclaimer: Garrett's information came from Daddy Vinne over on Tumblr, can't take credit for it.**

**Warning: This chapter deals with the darker side of being a Daddy Dom.**

**Playlist:**  
**Cooler Than Me by Mike Posner**  
**Give Me A Reason by Pink feat. Nate Ruess**  
**Skyscraper by Demi Lovato**  
**Sweet Nothing by Calvin Harris feat. Florence Welch**  
**Playing God by Paramore**  
**Steal Your Heart by Augustana**  
**Stay by Hurts**  
**I'm Yours by Metric**

I shot up, gasping for breath as my dream receded. My arms flailed about for something to anchor me to, finding only cool sheets. I fisted the sheets tightly, my whole body trembling as my tongue flicked out, wetting my chapped, dry lips. A strangled grunt escaped my throat, the feelings churning in my gut, forcing me to grit my teeth and clench my eyes shut in an attempt to fight them.

I fell back amongst my pillows, the sweat on my skin drying as my overheated flesh met the cool, soft cotton. My ragged breathing rang loudly in the quiet of my bedroom, and I tried to catch my breath, the erection between my legs throbbing with blood. I was on the edge, seconds away from cumming, but unable to bring myself to finish. Not when the images in my head were so twisted and dark, my desires warping to the point that I barely recognized them.

There was a monster sitting deep in my gut that longed to have Isa at my mercy. It wanted to tie her down, spread her legs and force myself into her. It haunted my dreams, and each time I closed my eyes I saw the monster taking over me, her protests falling on deaf ears as he did what he pleased with her. If anything, her cries of "no" only seemed to spur him on further, making him take her harder, his hands holding her down, bruising her delicate skin..

It was torturous knowing that somewhere inside me those desires existed, that the monster was a part of me, that my body lusted after those images. My cock was harder than it had ever been, precum dribbling steadily down onto my stomach, veins bulging from the sides, the skin an angry red.

My eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and gazed unseeingly up at the ceiling as a war raged internally through me. It was the same war that had been raging for weeks now, yet I was no closer to finding a solution. I was balancing on a tightrope, wobbling from side to side before stepping back, afraid of falling and failing, but too frightened to take the necessary steps forward.

I was still shaking as I raised my hands to my face, the pads of my fingers blistered from where I had driven all my negative energy into my art until they had reached the point of bleeding. I dry washed my face, surprised when instead of my usual stubble I felt the coarse hairs of a beard. Swallowing tightly, I wondered just how long I had been locked up in my studio before I had fallen into bed.

A sense of panic filled me so suddenly that I was jarred from my position, and I scrambled for my phone on the nightstand. My movements were slow and uncoordinated as I grasped it, squinting against the sudden bright light when the screen illuminated. I barely registered the late hour as I unlocked it, my chest tightening at the sheer amount of missed calls and texts waiting for me. A glimpse at the date told me that I had been holed up in my studio for nearly two weeks without a word to Isa explaining my absence.

I hated myself for reverting back into my old self, hiding away in an attempt to ignore what I didn't want to see, not caring about those who got hurt in the process. I was overwhelmed by the severity of my actions, my cock bobbing between my legs reminded me of how I got to where I was currently. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, planting my feet firmly on the soft carpet as I rested my elbows on my knees. My head fell into my hands, the hopelessness weighing heavily on my shoulders.

I had feared these desires arising when we had first began to embark on our relationship. It was, I supposed it was an unavoidable part of allowing yourself the freedom to delve into desires that sat on a very thin line. Before they had been merely errant whispers that probed at my brain every so often which were easily brushed aside and forgotten about, but now, sitting on the edge of my bed, I couldn't stop my twitching hand from wrapping around the girth of my cock as my mind took me to places that both frightened and aroused me.

She was asleep in bed, unaware of my presence as he pushed up her tank top and tugged her panties down her thighs before tying her wrists together in front of her. She awoke as he slipped in the bed behind her, roughly pinching her nipples and forcing her legs apart while she fought. A hand clamped over her mouth, muffling any cries that slipped past her lips as she struggled against him. Her struggle enticed the monster within me as she arched, her body straining as he sheathed himself in her. He whispered in her ear that Daddy's actions must be kept secret, that fucking her was our secret and she must not tell anyone.

The scene was disturbing and taboo, yet it didn't stop my balls from lifting and tightening or my orgasm from receding as I pumped my engorged cock. I cried out in both agony and relief as my cock exploded, thick ropes of cum spurting out, coating my hand and chest with evidence of my depravity.

I covered my eyes with my clean hand and broke down. Tears sprung to the corners of my eyes and shudders wracked through my body as my breath came out in short pants. I felt weak and broken as I stumbled to my feet, my knees almost giving out. I was mindless when I staggered into the bathroom, barely having the foresight to turn on the light before stepping into the shower. The bursts of cool water woke me, pebbling my skin with goosebumps, and I shivered, taking my penance without complaint.

My lips were almost blue by the time I tumbled back into bed. My gaze was locked on the view of the park through the curtains I had forgotten to close the night before. I drew my knees to my chest, struggling to warm up, the thought of sleep filling me with dread. I fought against it, but as the hours drifted by, my eyelids grew too heavy for me to hold open and I collapsed into a dreamless sleep.

I would have liked to say that when I woke to the sun streaming into the room, bathing it in light, that I was changed, but the weight of guilt and turmoil held my limbs down, bruising my muscles. It was with a cautious hand that I dialed the number I should have called long ago, knowing that I could not continue on my current path without crashing and burning. No matter what any man told you, letting go of your pride in any situation was hard. It didn't matter if you were one foot in the grave, admitting that you needed help was just not hardwired into a man's psyche.

Two hours later, I found myself sitting on a bench on Central Park with dark shades hiding my eyes. To anyone else, I was sure that I looked relaxed, one hand slung casually across the back of the bench and one leg crossed over my knee, but the restlessness was still apparent in the way my fingers tapped, jerking in an invisible rhythm.

I released a long breath, trying to calm my heart as I checked my watch for the fifth time in as less minutes. I closed my eyes minutely, allowing my mind to drift toward Isa. I had yet to call her to tell her I was sorry for my disappearance, knowing that I wasn't in the right frame of mind to be able have that conversation without doing something completely and utterly stupid that I would regret. I couldn't even bring myself to text her, knowing that she deserved so much more than that.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I startled when Garrett sat down beside me, holding out a coffee. "You look like you could use it," he said lightly, relaxing back and getting comfortable.

I snorted. "You have no idea," I muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid, the bitter taste welcoming. We sat in silence for a few moments just watching the world pass by.

"Let's walk," he suggested after taking a sip of his own drink.

We stood, strolling down toward North Meadow. I jammed my free hand deep into my pocket, rolling my lip back and forth between my teeth as I tried to clear my mind to find a starting point for the conversation

"I can't say I wasn't surprised when you called me this morning, but looking at you now it's obvious you should have called me long ago. When was the last time you slept?"

I winced slightly, raking a hand through my unkempt hair beneath my beanie and swallowed. "I sleep a few hours here and a few hours there," I admitted.

"And your little, Isabella, she hasn't seen you in this state, has she?"

I shook my head, unable to meet my gaze. "I...I can't be around her when I'm like this."

"Good. Though, from the state of you, it's been awhile since you've been around her. A part of me commends you for taking a step back so as not to let whatever's bothering you be directed toward her, but the other part of me is disappointed. You should have called me from the start, and now, because of your pride, you've neglected your little."

I felt properly chastised by his words. "If I could go back, I would have done a lot of things differently, but I can't, and I'm so fucked up inside that I don't know how to cope with it."

"And that brings us to the crux of this absurdly early meeting in the park: what has you so fucked up?"

I released a long breath, tugging my beanie down further over my ears as I struggled to find the right words. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I...I was fine one day and the next I was haunted by dreams of this monster who looked just like me."

"And what did this 'monster' do?" he questioned.

"It's different each time, but the theme remains the same. He likes to hurt her, whether it's a hand around her throat or forcing her mouth down over his cock so that she chokes and gags while he holds her in place. When she protests or says no, it just seems to spur him on further, arousing him to the point of pain. The things he does—tying her up and forcing himself on her—they haunt me. But each time I wake, I'm hard and aching for relief, my arousal at its highest peak." My throat was so tight by the end that I could barely squeeze the words out.

He nodded slowly, sipping at his drink with a thoughtful expression. "But you haven't experienced any of those things outside of your dreams?"

I shook my head vehemently, relieved that he wasn't judging me or calling the cops. "No. Never."

"And, in these dreams, does she ever use her safeword?"

I was surprised by the question, not having expected it. "I...I...no," I admitted.

A small smile flittered across his lips as he looked at me, seeming completely unruffled by everything I had told him.

"What you're experiencing isn't out of the ordinary, Edward. You are and have been suppressing yourself, suppressing your 'monster,' which is why these urges have come to you through your dreams. They don't want to be ignored any longer. The strong, sadistic Dominant urges of BDSM do not stop just because one becomes a Daddy. They need an outlet."

I was floored by his words, shocked at how he could talk so calmly about losing all restraint and letting loose everything I had kept tucked away, hidden deep within me. "And what exactly do you expect me to do with them?" I asked through gritted teeth.

He released a humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly as he peered at me from over his drink. "I have never met a Daddy or a Dom who has not experience what you are feeling. Hell, I've been where you are right now. We each carry within us, as most humans do, dark desires that defy logic. The impulse to frighten and hurt, to manipulate and control, to provoke and torture is always there, it's just not active until your mind draws it forward.

"There will always be a part of you, your monster, that will rear his head at times, salivating over your little like she is a prey to be devoured. You need to trust that your little can handle him, and if not, that she will stop him before he goes too far. It is at these very moments that self-definition arises. Littles yearn for that hard touch. They like rough Daddy, the Daddy that will make them do what HE wants despite their objections. She will say "no" often…consensually—she has a safeword and knows how to use it. That isn't to say that you should take this lightly, but these are the taboo moments that enliven us, that enthrall us. With every bit of fight in her, with every "no" she says, Daddy reasserts his right and dominion, his absolute power to say and do what he wants, when he wants, where he wants, and how he wants.

"Society makes us wary of labeling things in an attempt to be politically correct, but I can say with absolute certainty that I own my little, and she is mine to do with as I please. That isn't something she doubts, even for a second. Of this, she desires to be compliant. Fight as she might, it is merely to incense the monster. Despite her fear, she will see that monster, face that fear and call it "Daddy." For when all is said and done, what whets her appetite is the dark Daddy salivating for her, ready to rip her apart, to fuck her without compassion, to take from her what he calls "his," to make her his own through strength of will and force of cock."

I digested his words, letting them settle for a while before forming a response. "What did you do the first time it happened?"

"I was a mess, about as bad as you, if not worse. Letting go the first time is always the hardest, but it gets easier over time. I think what I struggled with most was that, as her Daddy, it was my duty to protect, yet I was unleashing myself, my monster, onto her without compassion. I was damn near horrified when the haze dissipated and she lay there, bruised and covered in my cum. I'd forced her to scream and beg while calling her every filthy, degrading name under the sun. I purposefully didn't use enough lubrication while fucking her ass so that she could feel the pain and friction. I'd pulled her hair and slapped her ass so hard that it took almost a week for her to recover, but despite all that do you know what the first thing she said to me was? She said 'thank you.'"

I could hear the shock and disbelief in his tone as he shook his head like, even after so many years, he couldn't understand that reaction.

"But it's harder when it happens with someone you love. You can fight all you want—God knows I've tried—but your monster is coming. At some point, when the time is right, you'll be forced to release him. Does that make you a bad Daddy? On the contrary, it simply makes you an honest Daddy. For the BDSM part of our lives is all about taboo. I doubt you can find a large majority of people who'll find the scenario of Daddy playing with the little girl, the one who is underage, innocent. But the of-age adult must be pleased in other ways, and her sexual nature and taste of the forbidden taboo leads her to you. She craves the hand that strikes, that chokes, that leads her to a burning path, the fires of which erase all sense of shame and bring her back to purity, the purity of the child that seeks the Daddy of love. We have within ourselves a dichotomy of selves: the dark sadist and the warm compassionate nurturer. Make no mistake who is in charge. While a little, as a submissive, may seem to be in charge since she holds within her mouth a safeword, it is Daddy that fuels her ability to withhold that safeword from use. It's never a Dom's intention to make their sub use her safeword. This may seem frightening now, but deep down, you know the limits. You may push her past anything she has ever experienced, but she has a list of things she will never do, and monster or not, you'll respect them. I assure you that your little is as bad off as you right now. I've seen you two together, you are so in tune with each other that I wouldn't be surprised if she's harbouring the counterpoint of your feelings. She doesn't need to be a pain slut to want it hard and rough."

"So, what you're saying is that, everything I am feeling is not only normal but reciprocated?" I asked hesitantly.

He laughed, a low and happy sound as he whipped around to face me, his eyes sparkling. "Finally, he gets it! I was running out of ways to explain it to you. I know you strive to care for her, protect her, honor her, treat her like a little princess, but part of being a Dom is satisfying every type of need and craving, whether it be yours or hers or a combination of the two. At the heart of it, it's not about whether you're a sadist or if she likes pain, it's about a mutual and consensual sharing. Each little has many secret desires and fantasies locked away behind doors created from years of being reprimanded by society, and it's a Dom's duty to coax them out. There are many things out there that your little may want to try, but doesn't feel she can on her own, which is why she has you. Almost every woman out there has a fantasy about being taken forcefully. There are studies and psychoanalysis' all about it! The best advice I can give you is to simply talk to her. Communication is part of the foundation of your relationship. Tell her all these deliciously dark fantasies scuttling around your mind and I guarantee you that, instead of being judged like you fear you will, she will embrace them."

I wasn't sure how two weeks of fear and reticence had been soothed in less than an hour, but I was just glad to be able to breathe without a weight sitting on my chest, suffocating me. I tipped my head back just as the first drops of rain fell from the sky, feeling a surge of energy slither down my spine. The more I thought about what he said, the more it seemed to make sense. I, myself, had previously commented on the intense connection and intimacy that could be gained through harsh handling. When I spanked her, I didn't feel further away from her, rather I felt closer, more in control, more observant to her every need, vocalised or not.

"I need to go. I need to talk to her," I told him, eager to be with the one person that could truly make things right again.

"Go!" he encouraged.

I jogged toward the nearest entrance, hailing down a cab. I gave him Isa's address, my knee bouncing impatiently as the cab navigated through traffic. Though it was early, I knew Isa was working today, and that made my window of time smaller than I would have liked. I barely looked at the amount I owed the driver before throwing a couple of bills in his direction once he'd pulled up in front of Isa's apartment building, my gaze firmly fixed on it in case she stepped out and I missed her.

A woman was leaving just as I practically fell out of the cab and I vaulted up the front steps, catching it before it closed. I slipped inside the building, my nerves mounting as I climbed the stairs to Isa's apartment. Though she had been understanding in the past, I doubted this reunion would be met with enthusiasm on her part. Not that I deserved anything less than the anger and hurt that was sure to be directed toward me.

My knock on her front door was hesitant and cautious, my heart once again racing through my chest as I tried to gather myself. I steeled myself as the clank of her heels grew louder as she approached the door on the other side, pausing to look through the peephole. I was afraid for one long moment that she wouldn't let me in, but after some silence I heard the sound of the lock twisting.

My gaze swept over her, starting from her feet—clad in peach pumps with a bow on the front—and up her toned, shapely legs to the the belted pencil skirt that clung to her hips and cinched in her waist. A sleeveless peach top draping down over her upper half before disappearing into her skirt

Her lips pursed and she raised an eyebrow as my gaze finally reached her face, her lipstick a soft pink. Though she had tried to hide it, I noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and stress lining her features. A wave of guilt swept through me, knowing that I was the cause for her turmoil.

"Oh, look who's still alive," she said flatly.

I cringed and released a long breath, jamming my hands deep into my pockets. "I owe you a huge apology, and I'll get down on my knees and beg you to forgive me if that's what it takes," I told her.

Her brows furrowed, showing a hint of the exhaustion showing through her carefully constructed facade. "I need to get ready for work. You look like shit, Edward. Go home, get some sleep, and then we can talk," she said softly.

She stepped back, ready to close the door, but I stuck my foot out, refusing to let this go on for longer than it already had. "No, I think we should talk now," I said firmly.

My demand made her snap, and she wrenched the door back open, her glare vicious. "You know what, Edward? Go fuck yourself. You don't get to disappear for two weeks without so much of a warning and demand shit from me."

I opened my mouth to respond, but she held up her hand. "I don't want to hear your excuses. I get it. You had to work, but don't you dare think for a minute that every time you get a bout of inspiration that last two-fucking-weeks that I'm going to be sitting at home waiting for you to reappear. I can deal with you disappearing for a couple of days at a time every so often, but when your art takes up more time and becomes more important to you than our relationship then I'm done. I'm not going to sit around like some clingy, whiny bitch just waiting on you to appear. You wanna know how it felt to know that you weren't there when I needed you without word of when you'd come back? I felt abandoned. You neglected me, you disappointed me, and you made me feel like I was insignificant, so give me one good reason why I shouldn't slam this door in your face?"

Each word she spoke was like a blow, and my mouth opened and closed uselessly as I tried to regain my balance. The enormity of how badly I'd fucked up was crushing. I'd done what I'd swore I'd never do; make her feel like her parents had.

A door further down the hall opened, and Isa looked away from me, dipping her head down so that I could no longer see her face. The tension was palpable as the person walked by us, their footsteps fading as they continued on. The silence was oppressive and stifling as our eyes once again met, the chasm between us seeming too large to cross. She blinked back tears, her lips mashed tightly together in an effort to control herself. Every instinct told me to hold her against her chest and wipe her tears away, but I knew she wouldn't allow that, and why would she when it was me that had caused them in the first place?

"Can I come in?" I requested softly. I felt overexposed standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear us.

She pressed her cheek into the doorway, her gaze refusing to meet mine as she shook her head.

I released a breath that had been trapped in my chest, the pain lancing through my heart unbelievable. I had been happily living in denial, comfortable with our relationship as it progressed and evolved, avoiding the the fact that I loved her. In fact, from the first moment I realized that I could fall for her, I had already been head over heels. I could feel her slipping from my grasp, and that was enough of a kick in the ass for me to finally admit to my feelings.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness. We both know I fucked up monumentally, but the truth is that I got scared, and when I get scared I run and I disappear. I was hiding in my art in an attempt to push away my fear without actually having to deal with it, and I hate myself for falling back into that habit. I let you down. I should have talked to you and explained what was going on with me, but I was confused and consumed by it, and it took talking to Garrett for me to able to break through it. Please, don't think that you weren't on my mind every second of everyday, but I was a mess, and I didn't want you to see me like that because you deserved so much more than that. I...I'm..." I paused, chancing a glance at her. Her expression hadn't changed throughout my whole speech, staying neutral and hiding her true feelings. "...I'm so deeply in love with you that it hurts, Isa, and I don't wanna lose you over this. Please, give me a chance to redeem myself."

"No!" she protested angrily, slamming her fists against my chest. "Don't say that!" I put hands up in surrender as she advanced on me, pounding her frustration out on my chest. "You're supposed to tell me that you're in love with me when we're happy and not fighting. I would have answered, telling you that I already knew and that I loved you back. You weren't supposed to fuck up and make me feel like shit before telling me how you felt. This wasn't how it was supposed to go!"

I grasped her hand before she could hit me again, cradling it in my own before pulling her forward. I barely had time to register the fact that she reciprocated my feelings, too focused on getting us into her apartment to give us privacy from any of the prying neighbors who wanted to see what all the noise in the hallway was. The turmoil currently rolling through her was almost palpable as she squirmed and struggled against me, wiggling out of my grasp.

She pushed me away from her, causing my back to slam against the closed door. The fire and passion in her eyes were both halves terrifying and arousing, but I was wise enough to focus on the scarier part of it.

"You can't waltz in and out of my life at your convenience. I need someone who is grounded and stable, and I thought that was you, but if you keep running every time something freaks you out then this is not going to work."

"You're absolutely right," I replied calmly. "And that is something we need to discuss when we're both a little calmer-"

"Don't tell me I'm not calm," she interrupted me with growl.

I sighed, feeling a little frustrated. "I just think we both need to have a clear head for that particular conversation. I understand that you're angry, and you have every right to be pissed, but I don't want either of us to say something that we'll regret later on because of it."

"You're right. I have to get to work anyway. I guess I'll see you in two weeks then," she deadpanned.

I let out a huff, lack of sleep wearing on my patience. As her boyfriend, I didn't mind taking her attitude, but as her Daddy, I had to put my foot down. "Isa, I get that you are not happy with me, but you are going to start speaking to me with respect, whether you think I deserve it or not."

A flash of conflict passed before her eyes, the two halves of her psych—the submissive little girl and the independant woman—fighting against each other. Unfortunately, the submissive lost, and my words only served to fuel her ire.

"Respect you? Why would I respect you when you don't offer me the same courtesy? You claim to love me yet you expect me to heel, sit, and roll over at your command like I'm your dog, legs spread and mouth shut," she spat, her words dripping with venom.

As soon as she finished speaking, I could see that she regretted her harsh words. She looked devastated, her hands raising to cover her face as she tried to regather herself. Her anger had built up, spilling over until she lashed out, attempting to make me hurt as much as she had in my absence. Her words had their intended affect, each one driving into my chest like a knife, and I was left reeling, hurt and upset by her comparison. Her words had not hurt my pride, on the contrary, they had been a blow to my confidence and assurance of my ability as a man and as a Daddy.

The silence lingered between us as we stood facing each other, the push and pull of our emotions creating static in the air. I crossed my arms over my chest, keeping my face impassive as I let out a long breath and took a step back. "I think that it would be wise if we took some time to regroup before attempting to have this conversation again."

She tipped her head back, her fingers slipping from her face and her lips parting as she blinked back tears, all the anger in her seeming to evaporate. She made no sign of acknowledgement to my words, standing crushed, yet stoic, her gaze refusing to meet my own. Too much had already been said between us, and I didn't think sharing anymore in this moment would improve the situation.

I took a step back, moving toward the door, the question of whether she would be here when I came back resting on the tip of my tongue.

Her head snapped up, her eyes brimming with tears and desperate as I opened the front door, my back to it. "Wait," she whispered, though it may as well have been a shout considering the way my heart jump started into action. "Don't go."

She broached the space between us, the clicking of her heels sounding amplified in the quiet. I let out a grunt as she collided with me and forced me back against the door, shutting it in the process. She stood, pressed flush against my body, the warmth of her sinking through my clothes, my skin, even my bones.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. I'm just so mad and upset...I wanted you to..." She struggled to find adequate wording, pressing her forehead into my shoulder as she fought back tears. "Please, don't leave me again," she begged, softly, her plea resounding within me.

I swallowed tightly, conflict raging like an angry bull inside me, huffing and pawing as it prepared for its charge. "I'm not going anywhere," I finally murmured, pushing my own feelings away for the time being and wrapping my arms around her. That wasn't to say that there wouldn't be consequences for her hurtful accusations, but neither of us were in the right place to even be thinking of addressing it at the moment.

Her shoulders sagged in relief, her body seeming to shrink before my eyes as her shoulders hunched forward. She let out a sound somewhere between a whine and a mewl; it was desperate and sad, like a lost lamb bleating for its mother. She pressed her face deep into the material of my top, her breath tickling my skin as a quiet sniffle escaped her.

"What do you need, Princess? Tell Daddy and he'll give it to you," I crooned softly. I wanted desperately to soothe her, but was unsure as to whether she would truly let me when things were still very precarious between us.

"I don't know," she whispered, her fingers clawing at me as she attempted to climb up my body like a vine. She seemed almost embarrassed by the way she nuzzled her face into my top, curling her body as close as she could manage, and it hurt me to see her like this; scared and confused.

"You left me exposed and vulnerable without protection," she whispered brokenly. "And I was alone and lost without you. I didn't know what to do or how to cope, and I hated it." I didn't know how to respond to her plea, so I kept silent, allowing her the room to let out her insecurities.

"You made me so angry, abandoning me like that without so much as a 'see you later,' and I wanted to hurt you, make you feel just a little of what I did in your absence. But, hurting you served to hurt me more, and I realize that my hurt, the hurt you caused, must be an agonizing weight on you."

She pulled back, her wide, dark eyes brimming with tears. "So, why weren't you there?" she asked, her bottom lip trembling. "Why put us both through this?" I leaned closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I raised a hand to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

I inhaled a steadying breath, fighting with myself on how to broach the subject of my absence. I untangled myself from her, moving to pace back and forth across her living room, one hand clenched in my hair. "I...I didn't understand it until I talked to Garrett. I thought that there was something wrong with the way I was thinking, being, but he explained it to me. There's this...monster inside of me, one I've been suppressing, burying it deep inside me, and it's been haunting me these past weeks."

I glanced over at her to see her brows furrowed in confusion as I skirted around the real truth. I cursed myself internally for being a coward, my nerves shot as I whirled around to face her fully.

"It...I want to restrain you, to hold you immobile while I fuck you hard, branding your pussy with my cock. I want to hear you scream, I want to feel you fight me, to hear you protest, and I want...no, I need to ignore you, to take what I deem is mine. I want to bend and twist you in whatever way I deem necessary to my needs for the simple reason of my ownership over you."

I stalked toward her, reveling in her wide-eyed stare, the flush of her cheeks and the parting of her lips only serving to spur me on further. "I want to hurt you, Princess," I whispered, my voice tortured, yet lustful as I ghosted my mouth along her ear and wrapped my hand loosely around her throat. "I want to bruise you, mark you, and steal the very breath from your lungs. I want to push you further than you're even aware you're capable of handling, and I want you to need every slap, spank, thrust, bite, and choke I give you."

I could feel her trembling beneath my grip, shudders rolling through her body. "Do it," she breathed, fear and arousal swimming in her eyes.

There was an unmistakable plea in her tone, and I felt all the energy draining from my body at her acceptance, given with trust I thought I had destroyed. I wanted to, a part of me begged just to go ahead and take her, but I couldn't, not when things were so broken between us. I let my head fall to her shoulder, my grip on her throat slackening as I pressed my face deeper into her skin, inhaling her scent.

"I can't," I finally murmured, pulling back reluctantly. "If I take you now when there is still so much unresolved between us then we'll both regret it, and I think there's enough regret already weighing us down."

I could see the disappointment wash over her face, but her subtle nod told me that while she didn't like it, she understood.

"I'm so tired," she admitted, turning away from me and slumping down on the couch in the living room, her elbows resting on her knees. Her head dipped forward making her hair cascade down around her face as she pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes.

"We both are."

"I don't want to fight anymore with you," she stated with a note of finality. "It's exhausting, and I don't have the energy for it."

I moved toward where she sat, squatting down in front of her as she rubbed at her eyes, the vulnerability shining clear in her body language.

"Hey," I murmured, trying to get her attention. She peeked out at me, her gaze almost shy as she met my eyes. "I know we have a lot to talk about and a lot to work through, but I'd really like to crawl into your bed and hold you. I don't expect you to forgive me just yet, and I'm going to do everything in my power to regain your trust-"

She cut me off with a hand over my mouth, effectively stopping my rambling mid-sentence. "I'd like that."

There was still tension lingering between us, even as we stripped down and crawled beneath the sheets covering her bed, and it pained me to know that it was my stubbornness that had caused it. She curled up against me, slipping one leg between mine as her head rested on my chest above my heart. My arms wrapped around her, cradling her body as we clung to each other.

We were nowhere near done discussing what had happened, both the cause and the aftermath, but for a few hours, we were both content to the provide the comfort we both needed and craved.

**AN: *peeks out from behind computer* trust me?...We got the 'I love you's' in this chapter, not that either of them really registered them, but I take only what they give me. Leave me some love and don't attempt to cyber kill me.**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: I would love to see a Chapter in full Daddy/little mode...we will get that...right?**  
**A: lol, I'll do my best to deliver.**

**Q:How is Garrett going to play a role in their Daddy/little relationship? They**  
**established they won't share. Will Garrett and Kate just observe? I'm so**  
**curious to see how you train and work with a couple.**  
**A:Eh, it ain't going to be easy to write, but as you saw in this chapter, Garrett was there to knock some sense back into Edward. That's kinda what his job is, making sure Edward doesn't do stupid things and being there to help him.**

**Q: Will Edward ever find himself being reprimanded or severely corrected by**  
**Garrett for having a differing opinion on how to deal with his little?**  
**A: Coming up very soon.**

**Q:When will Edward paint Isa, or will he?**  
**A: I want him to, but he's a finicky bastard that waits till the last minute to tell me what he wants in a chapter.**

**Q:Will Isa and Kate form a friendship/mentorship relationship or will they be acquaintances only while E maintains a mentorship with Garrett?**  
**A: Isa and Kate will be grow close and Kate will help Isa fully embrace the parts of her she hasn't really delved into yet.**

**Q:Will Isa and Edward be attending any social events for DD/lg's? How involved will become in the lifestyle outside of their personal relationship?**  
**A: God, that's a good question. They will attend DD/lg social events once things smooth out a little. How involved they will become I can't say for certain yet, but I'm hoping that Garrett and Kate will help them delve deeper into the lifestyle outside of their little bubble.**

**Q:I'd really like to get to know Madame Rosa a little better, will be we seeing much more of her in future?**  
**A: Of course! The Madame still has a role to play in this story.**

**Q: Will Isa and Edward ever play in public?**  
**A: No clue. They haven't developed enough at this point to give me those kind of answers, but who knows.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 17**

**AN: Thanks Lostin Pa and Bec Rose for being my soundboards and full of awesome ideas and assurance and thanks to torisurfergirl and darcysmom for betaing. A lot of you are under the assumption that Isa forgave Edward for being a dickwad last chapter. No such thing happened, she merely saw that fighting was doing more harm than good and that they both needed comfort and sleep before attempting to try sorting the clusterfuck Edward created again.**

**Important Side Note: It has come to my attention that some of my readers walked away from the last chapter believing that Edward had intentions of assaulting and/or abusing Isa in the name of Domination. That is not the case, and I apologise if you misinterpreted me. Some of the scenes I mentioned were somewhat...exaggerated because of where Edward was mentally. Purposefully injuring and dominating are two very different things that get confused way too often, and I'm sorry if I didn't explain myself well enough. When I mentioned him not using enough lube on purpose, I didn't mean to the point of injuring her, only to the point when you can really feel him and it hurts yet you're so lost in lust that you don't want him to stop. And when he talked about purposefully bruising her, I meant in the sense of when you hold you hold someone too tight, and you know its too tight, yet you can't seem to bring yourself to loosen your grip. In no way was I referring to assault or abuse of any kind. Okay, I think I've redeemed myself.**

**Playlist:**

**Bones by MS MR**

**Burning Desire by Lana Del Rey**

**Rumour by Chloe Howl**

**Born to Die by Lana Del Rey**

The soft creak of shifting leather and the clink of glass disturbed the quiet; the murmurings of other patrons distant as they passed by beneath us. The smell of new leather and alcohol filtered into my nostrils as I relaxed back in my seat, one arm stretched casually over the back of the couch in the bar and lounge I was currently at.

"I'll admit that you look a lot better than when we last met," Garrett murmured, casting me a brief glance as he lit a cigarette.

I made a sound somewhere between a snort and scoff around the rim of my scotch. "You'd be surprised what a few good nights of sleep can do for you."

He chuckled, blowing a plume of smoke out from between his pursed lips. "I think it's more to do the company you've been keeping that has returned that little sparkle to your eyes."

I wasn't surprised that Garrett was aware of Isa's and my reconciliation since she and Kate had taken to spending a lot of time together. Kate was coaching Isa on the harder aspects of being little and how to cope with certain things that I had no understanding of. I gave Isa the space to come to me with whatever she wanted to share about her time with Kate, though I knew there were things she was not quite ready to speak to me about.

"We're working on things, slowly but surely," I admitted, swiveling my wrist lazily, enjoying the sound of ice clinking against glass.

"I won't ask if you'd like my opinion, because I'm going to give it to you anyway," Garrett announced. "You fucking up like you did, while incredibly moronic and avoidable, was a good thing."

He let me digest this little piece of information, the curiousness of his statement swirling around my brain as I quirked a brow in question and took a drink of my scotch.

"I know that, to you, it doesn't seem like it, but you should be glad that you knocked yourself off the pedestal she, as littles tend to do, placed you on. The fact that you managed to do it so early on in your relationship is also a bonus, because the longer it takes, the harder it is for her to come to terms with the fact that her Daddy is, in fact, human. As an experienced Dom, it took me longer than was admittedly wise for me to make my first blunder with Kate. The fall is harder when you're also in a vanilla relationship because the lines blur to the point that neither of you are sure of your place in the relationship. Trust falters and doubts creep in until you're uncertain if the rift between the two of you will ever be bridged, but I promise you that, in the end you'll be thankful for it.

"I won't lie, it was a struggle for Kate to admit that I was as human as she was because I'd allowed her to build me up in her head until she'd created a complex that I had no hope of comparing to. She was understandably devastated when I didn't live up to her expectations, but it gave her a better perspective on our relationship as a whole. I respect my wife, and I never let her doubt that, but every little has to realize that her Daddy isn't perfect, and that there will be times when I get home from a long day at work and don't want to deal with her being needy or bratty. I've lost my temper and patience more times than I can count, but I know she doesn't judge me too harshly for those slips because she understands that even Daddies have off days. It's a balancing act: the natural push and pull of any relationship when finding your footing on common ground."

I nodded, my gaze fixed on my drink as I thought about what he had said. A part of me was relieved that this limbo Isa and I were currently navigating would not last forever. It hadn't been easy explaining to Isa the reasons that I had shut her out when it came to my art.

I knew she, as a musician, understood how personal the creation of something that had once been no more than a vague picture in the back of my mind was, but what she couldn't even begin to relate to was the madness that overtook me when I got inspired. A part of me felt as though I had been protecting her by hiding that part of me—the crazed, unrestrained manic that reared his head every so often. I had always seen it as a dark, ugly part of myself, one to keep locked away, only to be taken out in the secrecy of my studio, but after a long, and slightly painful conversation with my brother, Eleazar, I realized that part of being in a relationship was letting her see the bad as well as the good in me.

It had taken me a long time to work up the courage to give her a set of keys to both my apartment and studio. I'd warned her that generally when I was in my studio I didn't allow my focus to drift past the canvas in front of me. I wasn't sure if I would be able to cope with the distractions she might cause, especially since I couldn't promise to pay her much attention, but I was willing to try. Not just for her, but for our relationship.

I had also taken to finding a healthier outlet for some of the excess energy that burrowed its way inside me, redirecting it toward more frequent exercise, running especially. We worked on rebuilding the foundations, repairing the cracks that had formed. In the end, it was less about being at the top of one spectrum or another and more about making compromises.

I sighed. "It's hard, you know. I'm trying to learn, but I get so impatient with how slow things are going. I want it all behind me, but the guilt stays with me and it lingers between us, and I hate how uncertain it makes us feel."

"I've been there, Edward, and I can assure you that you just need to have patience. Some issues take longer to be resolved than others. You need to go back to that place where your connection, your intimacy, is the strongest. Have you punished her yet?"

I was startled by his question. "Punished?"

"Regarding her complete disrespect of you. She insulted your character and ability as a man and as her Daddy after you had warned her to watch her tongue."

I grimaced at the reminder and raked a hand through my hair. "I'm not quite sure how to handle it. Her words were spoken in anger, anger that she was rightful in holding against me."

"I don't mean to sound harsh, but a part of being a Daddy is making tough choices. If you make the choice to let her comment slide then it will forever hang between the two of you. I doubt she has forgotten that comment, and maybe the guilt you're experiencing is a product of that. You're at a place where you are both searching for some steady, firm ground. I know you feel responsible for what happened, but she was in control of how she reacted to the situation. She needs to be punished and the subject put to rest. It's the only way to put it to rest."

"How though? What would be considered a fair punishment for something like this?"

Garrett smirked, his grin devilish. "She accused you of treating her like a dog, did she not? Then turn those words around and make her understand what being treated like a dog feels like."

I took me a moment to understand what he was trying to convey, my eyebrows shooting up incredulously. "You think I should punish her by making her behave like the very thing she accused me of treating her? That's...that's harsh."

"But effective," he pointed out. "I doubt she'd think to say anything along those lines ever again. It'll also be a good lesson in holding her tongue."

I let out a long breath, sinking back further into the couch as I took a sip of my scotch, calculating the possibilities of his suggestion. I could admit that it was a somewhat ingenious plan, one that could play out perfectly between us, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to deliver such a punishment to its full potential.

"I know what you're thinking," Garrett interjected. "You're doubting yourself and your ability as a Daddy and Dom, but you need to push yourself out of your comfort zone as much as you need to push her out of hers. I can't force you to do anything you don't want to do, I can merely suggest options and lend my thoughts on the subject. That is, after all, why I'm here: to mentor and guide you."

I released a long breath, knowing that he was right. I couldn't reach my full potential until I challenged and pushed myself past my own boundaries. "How do you suggest I go about it?" I asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "That's for you to decide. The scene will go much better, smoother, if it comes from you. No doubt it won't be easy—you're going to have be tough with her—but you can also use it to deal with some of her minor infractions you've been overlooking since you came back."

He gave me a pointed look that told me not even bother trying to bluff my way out of that one. "When she pushes, you push back. She's still at the point where she's testing boundaries, and if you let things slide, she's going to think that she can get away with shit she shouldn't be able to get away with. Better to correct her now than have to do it later."

"Why do I feel like I'm failing at just about every aspect of my relationship?" I asked, only half joking.

He laughed. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Sometimes you have to fail to figure out how to succeed. Relationships are hit and miss, and at times, the misses are worth more than the hits."

"I feel like I should pay you for this. Have you ever thought about doing this professionally?"

He snorted. "God no. I'd probably do more harm than good."

"That's good to know. It gives me so much comfort to hear that," I responded wryly.

He grinned and shrugged. "This is different. I see so much of myself in you that it isn't hard for me to identify with you. I tell you what I wished someone had told me back when I was awkward and fumbling."

"Awkward and fumbling? That does describe me quite aptly, doesn't it?" I said good-humoredly.

"If the shoe fits," he murmured, his eyes dancing with mirth.

I laughed and stood, downing the rest of my drink before placing it on the table. "Well, as much as I love dissecting my failures, I promised Isa that I would go over to see her this evening, and I need to figure out how to create the perfect scene for this weekend."

"Go on, then. Don't stay on my account. I'll probably grab another drink before heading home. God knows Kate is going to chew my ass out anyway."

I quirked an eyebrow in question, wondering why he would purposefully make his wife angry.

He smirked. "The angrier I make her, the hotter the sex between us is. We probably won't make it to the bedroom," he confided, looking rather self-satisfied.

I laughed incredulously. "And she actually falls for that?"

He shrugged. "Gotta keep things interesting. Plus, she can be as rough and as wild as she likes without reprimand. She loves to rip my back up with her nails."

"Well, have fun with that," I said amused.

"I always do," he answered, and I made my way down from the VIP section of the lounge and headed for the exit.

It was cool outside, the sun had already gone down and was replaced by the moon. A quick glance at my watch told me that it was close to nine. Knowing that Isa only lived a couple of blocks away, I decided to walk and give myself the chance to sober up from the buzz I was currently experiencing.

I arrived twenty minutes later, announcing myself at the intercom. She let me in, and I jogged up the stairs, unable to curb the smile that curled up at the corners of my lips when I saw her waiting for me in her doorway dressed in one of my hoodies that she must have pilfered from me at some point and knee-high socks. Her creamy, toned thighs stood out against the dark fabric of my hoodie, and I felt a shiver of arousal zip down my thighs in remembrance of what they felt like wrapped around my waist.

Though we had reconciled, there was awkwardness between us that made sex something that we hadn't considered engaging in, yet. Well, I'd considered it, but I was smart enough to know that having sex before we were ready would only make things worse between us.

She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet as I strolled over to her, her teeth embedded in her bottom lip. Her eyes sparkled in a way that had been absent recently, and I couldn't help but wonder what had her in such a good mood.

"Are you hungry? I can heat up some leftovers," she told me, threading her hand through mine and tugging me inside.

"Uhmm, I'm fine," I answered, part amused, part confused. "What has you in such a good mood?"

She let out a huff and gave me a look. "Do I need to have a reason to be in a good mood?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I guess not. I was just curious."

She gave me a nod, accepting my answer easily as she walked to the kitchen, her hips swaying enticingly. She gathered her hair up in her hands and pulled it back into a ponytail, the hem of my hoodie riding higher up her thighs. I let a soft groan and adjusted my cock so that that rested in my waistband as it swelled.

"There is a reason I'm particularly happy though," she called out. I rolled my eyes and headed into the living room. I slumped down on the couch next to Minion, whose tail flopped half heartedly for me as she placed her head in my lap, silently demanding to be stroked.

"Oh?" I questioned, obliging Minion by scratching behind her ears.

"Uh huh, I was at my yoga class this evening with Kate, and afterward we went out for a healthy shake since someone won't let me drink more than three cups of coffee per day. Anyway, we got talking, and she helped me realize some things. The whole cluster-fuck that happened between us when you came over was partially my fault, and I'm finally ready to admit to that. I could have handled things better than I did, and I regret some of my reactions. You see, I placed you on a pedestal and looked up to you as my hero, which I can see now was a tough—if not impossible—image to live up to. I put too much pressure on you to be perfect and because of that you felt like you couldn't share your struggles with me."

She emerged from the kitchen as she talked, walking over to where I was sitting. She giggled as I pulled her down into my lap, snuggling up against me as she tucked her feet beneath her. I cradled her in my arms, tucking her against my chest until she was nestled comfortably against me.

"I'm sorry that I didn't see that I could share my troubles with you," I told her. "I suppose I got used to putting up the front that I was invincible that I didn't know how to act otherwise. I wasn't sure how to admit that I was human and flawed, and it meant that I wasn't fully letting you into all the aspects of my life. I've struggled with it—letting people in—ever since my parents died. There are parts of me that I keep hidden, afraid that people will see me differently if they knew. I see now that I set myself up to fail, pretending that I was somehow infallible, when I'm as human as anyone else. I was so afraid of losing your respect and trust in me that I ended up doing just that. I think, in the end, it all came down to admitting that I'm controlling to a fault and so far from perfect that it isn't even funny, but I love you, and I'm beginning to think that's my one redeeming quality."

Her cheeks flushed at my declaration. Neither of us had really acknowledged our past 'I love yous' during our fight, and I wanted her to know that my feelings hadn't changed since then.

She laughed, a soft, shy sound, as she leaned her head on my shoulder and snaked her arms around my neck. "I love you too," she murmured. "And I'm ready to forgive you."

I released a breath I hadn't even realized that I was holding, allowing her words wash over me like water. Hearing those words fall her lips created the same feeling as that of coming home after a long, hard day. It was relief, happiness, peace and anticipation combined together to make a feeling so full and overwhelming that to do anything but bask in it seemed sacrilegious.

I cradled her cheek in my hand, stroking my thumb over the soft apple of it before coaxing her face to turn in the direction of my own. I rested my forehead against hers while my hand slipped down to her neck, feeling the muscles shift and bunch as she swallowed. I tilted my head, sliding my nose up the length of hers as I palmed her hip over my hoodie with one hand and moved to cup the back of her neck with the other, pulling her closer.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Her warm breath washed over my face as I rubbed my nose against hers, allowing the intimacy that had fled to slowly make its way back to us before lowering my lips to hers. A spark jumped out at me as I parted my lips and inhaled her breath. I didn't realize just how much I had missed this connection we shared until it was once again granted to me, and I vowed to never again take it for granted. Our lips slanted across one another, parting and touching briefly before retreating. We shared a multitude of open-mouthed kisses, breathing each other in as we refamiliarized ourselves.

Her hand moved to cup my jaw, her fingers stroking and caressing as her nails scratched at my stubble. There was an edge of desperation that hadn't been present before as we kissed, an unspoken desire to get as close to one another as possible. I poured everything that had built up inside me into her, fusing our mouths tightly together as our tongues greeted, caressing and winding together languidly until I wasn't sure where hers began and mine ended.

Her hands slipped into my hair, threading through the unruly locks and fisting them as I drew her top lip into my mouth, sucking and nipping on the plump flesh. She let out a breathy moan, the sound like sweet music to my ears and a boost to my confidence. The fact that we're both comfortable, instead of awkward and unsure, was a testament to how much our time with our mentors had helped us navigate through the rocky terrain of our relationship.

"Hmmm, Daddy," she keened against my lips, her voice soft and sweet. She froze as soon as the words left her lips, retreating with wide, apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry."

I frowned, unsure as to the reason of her repentance and impatient to have her lips once more against mine. "Why are you sorry?"

"I-I don't know." She seemed frustrated, pressing her hands against her face as she released a long breath through her nose. "I'm sorry. I'm just so confused. I don't know where we stand or where our boundaries are. It feels like we've taken a step back, and I'm not sure when you're my Daddy or when you're my boyfriend. You haven't punished me since you've been back, though I've given you enough reasons to, and I'm starting to worry that maybe you don't want that aspect of our relationship anymore. But then you message me, reminding me of my curfew or the limit to my caffeine intake, and I start wondering what times you're acting as my boyfriend or as my Daddy."

My confusion turned to understanding as she revealed the same worries I had discussed with Garrett. The way she described how things had been for the past week brought some light on her perspective of, not just me, but our relationship as a whole. I could tell by the way she was wringing her hands and attempting to chew her way through her bottom lip that she was nervous to have brought the subject up, but I silently commended her for being honest with me.

"I probably should have addressed this earlier with you, but with all the other things we're working through, I guess I haven't been as attentive as I should be," I admitted, silently berating myself.

She shook her head. "Kate has been helping me realize that I need to start taking responsibility for our relationship and not leave everything to you. I've sat back and let you take on everything, acting as though it's your job to be aware of everything little thing that happens, but I'm starting to understand that communication works both ways. If I notice something that has slipped your attention, it's my responsibility to address it, instead of waiting for you to notice it. We're a team, and we can only flourish if we work together."

Her words encouraged me, made me feel more confident that we could overcome the obstacles we currently faced with and come out stronger. "Thank you, Isa. You have no idea how good it makes me feel to hear you say that. I know I've been...lax in terms of being your Daddy, reluctant to discipline or punish you because of the guilt I feel over my disappearance, but that's going to change. I've come to realize that, until addressed, we cannot move past some of what happened. You disrespected me as your Dom and Daddy, and there are consequences for that kind of behavior. I think by addressing that, along with your other infractions, this weekend that it'll help us both find our footing once again.

"I want you to know, though, that the three parts of me—the Daddy, the Dom, and the boyfriend—are all the same person, not three different entities. There are times when I'm your Daddy and boyfriend or your Dom and Daddy, or even solely your boyfriend, but I'm capable of being all of them or none of them. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She squinted in thought before slowly nodding. "I think so. You're saying that the Daddy, the Dom, and the boyfriend are all parts of the whole. What...what did you mean by none of them? You said that you could be all of them or none of them."

I let out an embarrassed laugh and rubbed the back of my neck, a sheepish grin on my face. "I like to think that beneath all the different layers and titles that you're my friend, first and foremost."

I couldn't quite meet her eye after my admittance, my neck warm with a blush as I waited for her response, peeking shyly down at her. She looked at me curiously, probably wondering where the shy man before had appeared from before palming my cheek and reaching up to place a soft, lingering kiss on my lips.

"I feel the same," she murmured, ghosting her lips across my jaw until she reached my ear. She nuzzled it for a moment before placing an open-mouthed kiss behind it. I shivered in response, my hands gravitating to her hips as she took my lobe between her lips. Her teeth nipped gently as she sucked on it, the heat of her mouth burning through the layers of my skin right down to the bone.

My breathing quickened as she shifted to straddle my lap, her tongue following the curve of my ear before she diverted her attention to the skin behind my ear that she knew drove me crazy when she sucked it. My mouth fell slack and my head fell back against the back if the couch; my cock swelled with blood at her ministrations.

"So, no matter what role you play, you'll always be my boyfriend, even when I submit to you?" she questioned as her lips hunted across my skin.

"To a certain extent," I grunted as my hands traveled up the smooth expanse of her warm, toned thighs.

"And you don't mind when I call you Daddy instead of Edward? You won't get annoyed or jealous because they are the same person, right?"

"Something like that," I muttered. "There are times when we spend time as a couple—both publicly and privately—that I would prefer you call me by my given name. Just as there are times when I enjoy having the freedom to be your Daddy, even if I view it as something private for just us. Being your Daddy Dom, on the other hand, is subjective to the situation and need. It can be both private and public, depending on the setting." I rolled my hips up between her legs and rocked against her pussy in an effort to relieve some of the pressure building.

She hummed lowly, her breathing stuttering slightly as she spread her legs wider, accepting my cock against her panty covered pussy. "So," she breathed, "how do I differentiate them from each other? How can I tell them apart?"

My lips turned up slightly at her question, and I guided her face up so that I could nibble on her swollen lips for a moment before answering. "When I'm your boyfriend, I call you Isa or baby and let you be the independent woman I love. When I'm your Daddy, I refer to you as 'Princess,' and I take the majority of the control while giving you the space to grow and learn. I haven't explored the Dom in me as much as I should have—it's the part I was partially suppressing—but I doubt you wouldn't be able to recognize him.

"But just like I have more than one personality inside me, you do too. Each sits at a different level, but whether you're Big, little, or that one that sits somewhere between them, you're still Isa to me. Being little is not dependant on my presence. That's something you have deep in your belly that tells your mind silly little things, like to play on the swings or watch kids movies for the simple reason that you like how it makes you feel. I know you enjoy dressing years beneath your age, and I'm sure you enjoyed it long before I came around. I'm your safety net. I amplify your needs to the point that you don't need to worry about the trivial, annoying, day-to-day life things, while making sure you don't get into too much trouble. Each of your personalities reacts and takes its cues from the different personalities I project and visa versa. That doesn't mean, however, that we shouldn't set aside time specifically for playing or being a couple, which is why I want you over at my apartment this weekend for some playtime."

"What about Carlisle?"

"He's currently on a two week trip to France," I told her, leaving out the part where I basically gave him no other choice but to accept the ticket. Things between Carlisle and I had been strained ever since his and Isa's initial meeting, and I was hoping the time apart would help him come to terms with everything.

"And I'll be getting a punishment?"

"It's rather long overdue, don't you think?" I told her with a quirked eyebrow. She pouted adorably and shifted in my lap, reminding me of the erection pulsing between my legs that had been neglected during our talk. I bucked my hips, rubbing and rocking my hard cock against her, causing her to release a soft breathless moan that did nothing to alleviate the pain in my groin.

She ground down on me in retaliation, the heat of her pussy seeping through my pants as I palmed the supple cheeks of her ass, pulling her tighter against me. She looped her arms around my neck, hugging me closer as her lips descended on me, placing teasing kisses on my lips, never lingering long enough to satisfy the craving they brought with them.

It didn't take long before our kisses deepened and our tongues mingled, pants and sighs escaping as we made out heavily, our bodies rubbing against each other with a need that seemed unquenchable. My scalp burned where she tugged at my hair, forcing my head to tilt to the side so that her tongue could delve deeper into my mouth, until she was almost touching my tonsils. Despite my dominant streak, I couldn't deny that I found it sexy when Isa took charge, her confidence was something that had always drawn me to her, now more than ever.

She seemed almost oblivious as I twisted my body to the side, only the wrapping of her legs around my waist as I rose enough to place my knee on the couch and the tightening of her grip on my hair alerting me to the fact that, though her lips had not faltered, she was aware of what was going on around her. I lowered her carefully along the length of the couch, reluctantly tearing our mouths apart as I shifted to hover over her. I placed a hand by her head and spread her legs further apart with my knees so that my hips fit comfortably between her thighs. My hoodie had ridden up to the point that her striped boyshorts were visible, the material clinging to her pussy, and the wet spot over her crotch making the fabric transparent.

I reached down with my free hand, skimming my fingers teasingly over her cloth-covered pussy. She moaned softly and rolled her hips up to meet my hand, silently begging for more. I obliged her, dipping my fingers down beneath the waistband to find slick, swollen lips parted and needy for attention.

I could feel her thighs trembling as she let her head fall back, arching her neck and closing her eyes. She gave herself over to the sensation of my hand as I stroked her, my fingers slippery with her juices. I sat back, pulling her panties down far enough that I could see her pink pussy split open like a ripe fruit, and my fingers rubbing her engorged clit. Her hips rocked against my hand as quiet mewls and keens escaped her—the pleasure I was giving her written all over her face.

"Do you like that?" I questioned, dragging my fingers down through her labia to her entrance. I applied pressure to it, letting her feel me there without actually entering her. I placed my free hand on her pelvis, preventing her from moving her hips in a effort to, literally, force my hand.

"Please," she whimpered. I circled around it and moved back and forth, my movements languid and almost absent-minded. Her plea was enough to make me plunge two fingers inside her to the hilt, the heel of my palm pressing against her clit as I removed my other hand, allowing her to writhe and buck freely. I leaned back over her, crushing my mouth to hers as I fucked her with my fingers. My hand dived beneath my hoodie, forcing it higher up her body until I found her breasts. Though it had been over a month since she'd had her nipples pierced, I knew they were still sore, so I navigated carefully, cupping the underside and fondling it gently.

The scent of her sex hung potently in the air as I pistoned my fingers in and out of her, twisting and curling them in an attempt to bring her higher. She was so wet that I could hear the slick sounds her body created, each thrust punctuated by it. She squirmed and writhed, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as she trembled, getting closer to the edge.

"Eh-Edward," she stuttered. "Inside me. I need you inside."

Lust surged through my veins, and I lost the will to fight her, to prolong her pleasure without seeking my own. I removed my hand from inside of her, licking my fingers clean and tasting her essence on them. She whimpered at the loss of contact, her eyes fluttering open to watch as I yanked my shirt off and unbuttoned my pants, reaching inside to palm and stroke my erection. A shudder raced down my spine and my lips fell slack at the pleasure coursing through me. I pushed my pants down to my thighs with my free hand as I swept my thumb over the leaking, bulbous tip of my cock, all the while holding Isa's gaze.

She sat up, grasping the hem of my hoodie and pulling it over her head before throwing it off to the side. She slid her palms up my thighs before taking me by the hips and pulling me forward. I chuckled at her impatience and fell over her body, catching myself on my hands.

I was long past caring about the fact that I was still partially dressed, my pants resting at my bent knees. I barely had the presence of mind to grab a condom from my wallet, ripping it open and sliding it down the length of my thick, throbbing erection before lowering my hips until my cock was nestled between her legs.

I hitched her thigh over my hip, pulling her body further beneath me. Her fingers tangled in my hair, raking through my unruly locks and fueling my arousal. Our gazes locked as I tilted my hips forward, the amount of arousal that had collected in her pussy allowing my cock to enter her effortlessly.

Our gasps and groans mingled together as I filled her slowly, stretching her pussy inch by inch. She arched, her back bowing off the couch as her thighs clamped around my hips. Her whole body trembled as she accepted me into her body, the feel of tight, silken heat almost unbearable after so long without it. It was an exquisite pleasure, feeling her walls flutter and clench around my cock, one that I would never again take for granted.

My forehead fell against her shoulder as I fought for control over my body, refusing to allow this to end prematurely. My breathing was heavy and uneven, and my heart beat loudly in my ears. I turned my face, skimming my nose along the length of her neck, whilse my lips followed the path, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses as I went.

I withdrew slowly from her body until only the tip sat inside her before filling her once again. She moaned softly and, using the grip she had on my hair, brought my face up until it was level with hers. Our forehead connected, her eyes pleading me for more as she pressed her feet into my ass, forcing my cock deeper inside her.

Needing no more encouragement, my hips easily found a steady pace, one which Isa met thrust for thrust. It conveyed what couldn't be said with words, and we clung to each other, allowing it all to fall us over us like a blanket. I poured every ounce of emotion I had into hers, the rawness of my movements communicating the words that couldn't find their way past my lips.

She let out a low, throaty groan as my pelvis grazed her clit and arched her head back, baring her throat to me. Her nails dug harshly into my shoulders, scratching my back while our chests slid against each other, the slick sounds of sex a chorus to the sounds of ecstasy that escaped us. My shoulders rolled with tension, the weight of each feeling passing through my body causing me to tremble.

Nothing but her filtered into my conscious. The way she reacted to me, synchronizing her movements with mine as she responded to me. Each thrust brought forth a surge of something undeniable, yet unexplainable, an emotion that ran deeper than could be explicated.

It was consuming, overwhelming, too much yet not enough at the same time. It tugged and yanked at my insides, refusing to be ignored. Sex had always been intense with Isa, hell, our whole relationship had been charged since the moment we had met, but this brought us to a whole other level.

It didn't matter that we were in her living room on the couch, her panties tangled around her ankles and my pants at my knees; this was us, making love. The whole world could have collapsed around my ears and I would have been none the wiser, the call of her body was too strong to focus on anything else.

I wanted to climb inside her skin and make my home in there. I wanted to rip her apart and put her back together again. It was a violent, vicious need that I hadn't expected. But as much as it wanted to destroy, it also wanted to claim her in ways that, before today, had been impossible. It wanted me to make love to her, to caress every inch her of silken skin until she trembled and shattered, my name on her lips.

"Does this feel good, baby?" I whispered in her ear, my voice hoarse.

"God, yes," she keened.

"Fuck," I breathed as a shudder made a jagged path down my spine, branding this moment in me forever.

My mouth was needy as it took her lips into a kiss, pulling her bottom lip into my mouth and sucking on it. She whimpered, her mouth just as eager as mine, and bucked forcefully, making me slide in deeper. My hips flexed, drawing back only to plunge forward again, filling her repeatedly. The heels of her feet dug into my ass, trying to draw me closer, deeper, but it was quickly becoming clear that no matter how close we got, it would never be enough.

There was no other way to describe how we reacted to each other. Crying out and moaning as if we were experiencing a deep-seated pain that could not be extinguished. We were sweating and trembling, our senses on an overload as each push and pull brought us closer to the peak.

The sparks of pleasure seemed to burn and tingle against my skin, the hairs on my arms rising in response. My heartbeat rang loudly in my ears, only eclipsed by sounds of her cries and pants as we attempted to devour one another, fully and completely.

"I'm close," she mumbled against my mouth, and I reached a hand between us, slipping it between her slick folds until I found the plump, swollen flesh of her clit. She mewled, her head thrashing from side to side while I increased the pressure of my strokes on her clit.

"Let me feel you," I begged. "Come on my cock."

She quivered, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead as she gave herself over to the pleasure. Her walls drew me in deeper as they collapsed around me, grasping onto my cock tightly. She shuddered, arching her back and slamming her eyes shut as she climaxed.

With the pressure that surrounded me, it didn't take long for me to follow, grunting and groaning as I milked every last drop of my orgasm. My pelvis rolled lazily as I came back down, barely having the presence of mind not to collapse on top of her, my arms shaking with exertion. I pulled out slowly, removing the condom and tying a knot at the tip before throwing it in the trash can by the coffee table.

There wasn't much room to maneuver, but I managed to shift onto my side, my back against the back of the couch. My body curled possessively around hers, one arm slipping beneath her head while the other draped over her waist. I tangled my leg between hers and buried my face in her neck, content to just breathe her in.

Neither of us felt the need to talk, to break the silence that had settled over us, in an effort to prolong the high we were experiencing. I pulled the afghan off the back of the couch, covering our bodies with it as we snuggled and sharing errant kisses until we fell asleep. Our footing in our relationship once again re established.

**AN: *Wipes brow* I think y'all deserved that lemon after the cluster-fuck that happened last chapter. Leave me some love, darlings.**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: When is he going to unleash the monster? I can't wait!**

**A: Oh, you dirty girl *wags finger* if I told you that I'd...*cough* next chapter.**

**Q: Is his art studio in his apartment or another location?**

**A: It's in his apartment, but kind of sectioned off.**

**Q: Perhaps Isa can give Edward a few good lashes on his behind and then they can try again?**

**A: Lol, that's not quite how it works, I'm afraid, as you saw in this chapter. That's the trouble with dating a man who's also your Dom.**

**Q: When will we be hearing from Carlisle?**

**A: *Scratches head* Honestly? I have no clue.**

**Q: You know that you don't exactly answer questions, right?**

**A: I have no idea what you are talking about *grins***

**Q: Is Isa agreeing to it because she really wants to be treated that roughly or because she is afraid/reluctant to say no to him?**

**A: This was a surprising question, especially from this particular reader (you know who you are). To answer you question, though, Isa would not have reacted as she did if she was scared of him leaving or just scared of him in general. If you go back to chp 4, when they first discuss this, you'll see that Isa told Edward: "as a woman, I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. As a woman, oh God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality, the touchstone, the command, and my pivot. I want to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a man, by his bidding,.."**

**Edward is giving Isa exactly what's she's longed for since the beginning, he just didn't piece together the two until it was a little too late**

**Q: Isa's response to Edward's dark desires was not exactly what he expected. How long before they move on to that level of trust in their playtime? Will it**

**also happen out of their designated playtime?**

**A: Not long at all. They've broken some real ground with this chapter, and Edward's regaining his confidence. Now, that they are more open and communicating better, trust has been reestablished and they are stronger than ever.**

**Q: What kind of signal will Edward devise to help Isa know an episode of hiding in his art is about to occur?**

**A: Well, as you read, Edward has given Isa unlimited access to both his apartment and studio, so that what happened last chapter won't ever happen again. Edward has also gained some more control by redirecting some of his excess energy into running. They haven't perfected a signal quite yet, but I'm sure they'll work something out.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 18**

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews (both good and bad) and I know I lost a couple people over the punishment thing, but, *shrugs* I still got you guys, so I'm just grand. A few of you didn't quite understand the angle I was going for with the punishment, so I hope the beginning of this chapters clears that up for you. Thanks to my pre-readers Bec Rose and Lostin Pa for being my top cheerleaders, and Torisurfergirl and darcysmom for beta'ing.**

**Playlist:**

**New York by Snow Patrol**

**Animal by Neon Trees**

**Castle of Glass by Linkin Park**

**Running For Cover by Ivan & Alyosha**

**Home by Phillip Phillips**

**Jungle by Emma Louise**

"Before we start, I want to discuss some things with you," I told her softly, pushing her hair off her shoulder, her silken tresses still warm from the blow dryer. I was sitting on the couch, my body angled to the side with one leg folded beneath me while the other hung off the edge, my bare foot placed firmly on the carpet. Isa sat between my legs, mirroring my position as I tugged the neck of the thick, fluffy robe I had laid out for her to wear upon exiting the shower down off her shoulders so that it hung in the creases of her elbows, giving me clear access to her neck and upper back. My fingers feathered over her skin, sweeping across her bared shoulders before digging the pads of my fingers into her soft flesh and rolling the tension from her muscles.

She sighed softly, her hands skimming up and down my pant-clad thighs as she slowly relaxed, dispelling her nerves. I knew she was nervous about her punishment, we both were—but I was determined not to have her overthink—the scene ahead of us.

"First, I need you to understand that I am punishing you not for me, but for you. This is not about my bruised pride or ego, or the fact that you purposefully aimed to hurt me with your words. It's not about earning my forgiveness because you don't need to, and I wouldn't want you to feel like that's what I'm aiming for with this. This is about setting what was wrong to right and freeing you of the guilt and hurt your words caused you. I want us both to be able to move on from what happened without any lingering doubts or worries. Now, remind me of the three things you can do to earn a punishment."

Her voice trembled slightly as she answered, the weight of her words a heavy anchor on her heart. "Disobedience, dishonesty, and disrespect."

"That's correct. You willfully disrespected me, disregarding my warning, and though I concede to the fact your anger was not misplaced, your tone and words left a lot to be desired. Do you understand what I am saying?"

She nodded. "Yes, Daddy," she answered softly, her muscles tightening with tension. "You're saying that while my anger was justified, the fact that I used it as a weapon to disrespect and hurt you is why I am getting a p-punishment."

"Shhh, relax," I murmured, coaxing the knots that had re-formed to loosen. "I'm not angry with you."

She released a shaky breath, forcing herself to relax as I leaned to the side minutely to fetch the hairbrush that rested on the coffee table. I gathered her hair in my hands, pulling the thick, loose curls back over her shoulders. Brushing her hair continued to be an intimate act that held a certain eroticism that solidified the bond we shared, reinforcing trust and reminding each of us of our role and place. My strokes moved in a soothing rhythm that both cleared our minds and centered us, allowing us to focus solely on the scene ahead.

"I'm sure you're curious about what I have planned today. Your punishment will be less physical than what you have received in the past. Instead, it'll focus more on the mental and emotional aspect of punishment. Do you remember your safeword?"

"Vanilla, Daddy," she responded.

I smiled, deftly braiding her hair so that it would not hinder her later. "Good girl. I also want to use the three color system so that I can monitor you more closely. Please name their meanings for me."

She squared her shoulders, gaining confidence at my request. "Green means that I am fine and wish to continue. Yellow means that I wish to slow down but still want to continue, and red means that I wish to terminate the scene," she explained.

"And are there repercussions for using yellow or red during a scene?"

"No. My Daddy only wants the best for me. If I use either my red or yellow colors, then he will stop and we will talk about what made me uncomfortable. If after that I wish to continue, then he will determine if we should or not."

"Good girl," I told her, securing her braid with a hair tie. "I want you to go into my bedroom and fetch the black duffel bag on the bed. We'll discuss more of what will happen during our scene when you get back," I informed her.

She pulled her robe up over her shoulders before standing and making her way toward my bedroom, her feet treading softly against the carpet. I released a long sigh and stood surveying the room around me with a critical eye, trying to find some sort of fault with my apartment.

I was nervous, the fluttering in my chest and the erratic beat of my heart making denial pointless, but I forced myself to breathe through it and focus on the task ahead of me. I folded the sleeves of my crisp, black shirt up to my elbows neatly and smoothed down my charcoal grey slacks. It felt strange to be dressed so formally, but Garrett had suggested that it might be a good way for me to detach from the Edward who preferred casual wear and transition into the Dom I was striving to be.

I allowed myself a moment, closing my eyes and inhaling deep, even breaths as I sank into the correct frame of mind. My mind flitted through the plans I had prepared for her, and my lips curled up in satisfaction at the scene I had created. My nerves dissipated with the knowledge that everything was going as it should, my confidence standing firm in the face of what was to be my greatest challenge yet.

My cock was already half erect, pulsing against my thigh in anticipation of what was to come, and I shifted it into a more comfortable position, my fingers lingering for a moment as I tucked the bulbous tip into my waistband. I strolled over to the floor to ceiling window, the view of the city calming the last of my frayed nerves.

It didn't take long for Isabella to re-enter the living room, the duffel bag in hand. I strode toward her, my bare feet moving soundlessly across the floor. I didn't stop until I stood directly in front of her, invading her personal space, my chest almost touching hers. My gaze never faltered, keeping her trapped in it while my hand feathered across her wrist, gently taking the bag from her hand just as her gaze fell from mine in submission.

"I expect you to speak freely, just as you have for the last part of this conversation," I disclosed as I backed away, turning to place the bag on the coffee table. "I think it's important that you know that this punishment does not change the way I see you. Once it is completed, this whole situation will be put behind us."

I unzipped the bag and opened it enough for me to see the contents before straightening up and twisting around to face her again. "Your punishment stands as this: You accused me of treating you like a dog, in fact, your words were, and I'm quoting this from memory, that I expected you to 'heel, sit, and roll over at my command like you were my dog, legs spread and mouth shut.' I got that about right, didn't I?"

I folded my arms across my chest and quirked an eyebrow in question to show that my inquiry had not been rhetorical. She swallowed, her dark, wide eyes filled with a silent plea for absolution before releasing a long breath. "Yes, Daddy."

"I thought so. For that comment you've earned exactly what you falsely accused me of: a place on your hands and knees as my pet. For the duration of the day, you will not speak unless you feel the need to use your safeword or I instruct you to. You will be always ready to take me into whatever orifice I decide to use for my pleasure, you will be denied any kind of relief unless I feel you have earned it, you will remain naked except for what I decide to clothe you with, you will behave in the appropriate manner of your role, and you will heel, sit, roll over and service me in anyway I deem necessary like the good little pet you are."

There was an internal battle waging behind her eyes as the Big in her fought against the little, every word I had spoken made the Big want to rebel. She closed her eyes, struggling to find a hold on what she was feeling, oblivious to my advancement. I couldn't control the secret thrill that filled me when she shivered just as the tip of my fingers grazed the length of her throat.

My attention was transfixed on the way the cords and muscles convulsed as she swallowed. I pulled free the collar she would be wearing today from my pocket, rubbing my thumb over the leather thoughtfully. It was a thick, black leather bondage collar with a three rings, one in the front and the other two at the sides.

"Do you submit to me knowing that I would never purposefully endanger you physically, emotionally, or mentally?"

A myriad of emotions flickered across her face, and she stared up at me, searching for something in my gaze until her expression settled on one of resignation and determination.

She licked her lips nervously before she nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

I removed my hand from her throat, replacing it with her collar, the feel of the cool leather seeming to ground her, steadying some of her fears. The click of the lock sounded both ominous and titillating as I twisted the key, locking it in place where it would remain for the rest of the day.

"And do you accept your punishment?"

She reached up, her fingers skimming over her collar for a moment as she nipped at her bottom lip. I could see that she wasn't fully at ease, maybe even a little reluctant, but she gave me a small, reassuring smile and released a deep breath before nodding. "Yes, Daddy."

I reached for her slowly, sliding my hands beneath the robe and gently tugged it from her body, leaving her naked, save her collar.

"You look so beautiful like this," I murmured, dragging my fingers up her sides to her breasts. "Wearing nothing but my collar, ready to serve me."

A shiver rippled across her skin, and I smirked, watching the way her chest rose and fell heavily as her breaths quickened at my words, her teeth pressing hard into the skin of her bottom lip as she suppressed whatever reaction that my words had created.

"You like that, don't you?" I murmured, brushing my thumbs gently across her nipples, the steel glinting in the light as her nipples constricted, swelling into hard buds. She arched into me, seeking more than the teasing touches I had bestowed upon her. "The thought of me using your body solely for my pleasure, taking what's mine without pause or question, makes you wet, doesn't it?"

I pressed my thumb against her bottom lip, tugging it free from her teeth while my lips ghosted over her cheek to her ear, leaving a fiery trail of heat in its wake. "Don't worry, little pet. I won't hurt you...much."

All the breath in her lungs seemed to whoosh past her lips at my words, and a strangled whimper fought its way past her throat.

"On your hands and knees, little pet," I ordered, abruptly striding away, knowing that my control could only take so much, and her whimper had been enough to have my cock weeping for gratification.

She dropped to the carpet after a moments hesitation, settling on her hands and knees, her body trembling slightly as she obeyed.

I pulled out a leash and what I had chosen for her to wear for the remainder of the day from my bag, holding it up for her to see.

"Come, little pet" I called out. "Daddy wants to dress you."

Her eyes snapped up from what I was holding to meet my gaze, incredulity dominant in her expression. The corner of my lip twitched up in amusement, I held her gaze firmly, and silently ordered her to comply. She swallowed tightly, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she attempted a clumsy crawl toward me. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and her gaze remained fixed on the ground, refusing to meet mine.

She reached me, pausing by my feet, her head tilted down in defiance, refusing to watch what I was doing. I slipped the headband into her hair, the large fluffy puppy ears connected to it curling at the tips and blending in perfectly with her hair color. Even with her frown and pout, she looked adorable.

"I want you bent over the arm of the couch," I said, speaking with a firmness that left no room for argument.

She rose, gaze still averted and did as she was told, bending her upper half over the arm, only her elbows keeping her from pressing face first into the dark leather. I watched her for a while, letting the minutes pass by without moving until she began to squirm, her body shifting in discomfort at her own vulnerability. She turned her face in my direction, finally looking at me, instead of ignoring me as she had been doing previously. Part of her defiance had slipped away, replaced by contriteness as she relaxed slightly at the sight of my presence, her need for me growing past her initial reluctance.

Taking that as my cue, I strolled lazily toward her, my pace slow and measured, the wait making her senses heighten. My eyes persued her body openly as I advanced, a smirk curling up on my lips at the way she fidgeted in response to my gaze.

I walked behind her, out of sight, taking in her position. Her legs were out straight behind her and closed tightly, her balance resting on the balls of her feet and her elbows. Her pelvis rested on the arm of the couch, causing her ass to thrust out toward me in offering, the pale cheeks just waiting to be darkened by my hand.

"Spread your legs," I instructed as I took the cap off the bottle of lubricant in my hand. She obeyed seamlessly, her new position causing her ass to tilt up higher to reveal the lips of her pussy as her stomach dipped down slightly. She was wet, her lips slightly swollen and slick with her juices, and it spurred me on.

She startled when I touched her, running my hands over her ass, her soft, supple curves fitting perfectly into my palms. She pushed back against me, wriggling her hips in a silent plea for more attention. I gave her a playful swat before pouring some lubricant onto my fingers. I soothed away some of the tension that had built up before spreading apart her cheeks and slowly working my fingers between them. She hummed out a moan as my fingers grazed her little puckered hole, the pressure of my fingers turning her on.

She pushed back against my hand, coaxing my slick fingers to sink into her body, and I slapped her ass hard, making her keen in both surprise and pain.

"I don't remember ordering you to move," I told her. She released a whimper, knowing better than to respond verbally, and I picked up from where my fingers had left off. Her body resisted at first, fighting against the intrusion until her ass had stretched comfortably around them.

"What color are you?" I asked.

"Green," she confirmed breathlessly.

"Good, little pet," I praised, feeling her shudder as I removed my fingers. I picked up the tail which would complete her outfit, the fur the same color as the ears on her head. I drizzled lubricant onto the plug connected to the tail before pressing it against her little puckered hole. She stiffened at the feel of cool metal, and I was quick to assuage her fears.

"Shhh, relax for me," I crooned, waiting for her to relax before slowly working the plug in. She quivered, tremors rolling down her spine as I reached the widest part of the plug. This plug was slightly bigger than the one she had been using to stretch her ass with each day, but I figured it was time for an upgrade.

"Take a deep breath for me," I instructed her. She obeyed, sucking in a lungful of air as I eased the last part in. A strangled noise somewhere between a mewl and a moan ripped from her throat as it seated in her ass fully, the tail flowing from the entrance of her ass and down the back of her thighs.

I tugged gently at it to make sure it was secure, careful not to cause her any harm, though when it came to having things in her ass, I knew she liked a little bit of pain. She had described the burn of her muscles stretching to accommodate the plugs I had filled her with as titillating and erotic, the pain only serving to ignite her arousal.

I picked up the leash from the coffee table, the metal links clinking against each other, and squatted down near my her head, connecting the leash to the ring at the front of her collar. Grasping hold of the other end of the leash, I stood, walking until I was once again behind her and gave it a sharp tug.

"Down, little pet."

I gave her no slack, forcing her to shimmy her body backwards so that her tail twitched like that of an excited puppy upon seeing its master. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and I stepped back, giving her room to lower herself back on her hands and knees.

Her skin was flushed, this time less from embarrassment and more from arousal, and I took this as an opportunity to up the ante. I knelt behind her, pulling the leash tight enough that her neck strained. Her legs didn't require much coaxing to spread, her pussy wet and needy.

She moaned when I dragged my fingers over her swollen lips before dipping them in between. She was drenched with her juices, her hot essence clinging to my fingers as I grazed her clit.

"So wet, little pet. If I didn't know any better, I'd think this little bitch was in heat. Does my little pet need a cock to fill her needy pussy?"

I didn't expect an answer since she was prohibited for her to speak, but a strained whimper slipped unchecked past her lips. I unbuckled my belt before undoing the button of my slacks and pushing them down my thighs. I had forgone underwear completely today, knowing that I had no need for them, and fisted my cock tightly. I gave it a few, quick pumps before shifting forward, forcing her thighs to spread wider to accommodate my stance, and guided my cock between her legs.

She bucked against me as I trailed the tip through her lips, hissing at the heat as her wetness soaked my engorged flesh, dripping down my shaft.

"Bark for me, and I'll give you my cock," I bartered, drawing circles around her clit with it, wanting nothing more than to plunge into her body. I knew when I finally got inside her that it would be quick and rough, but that mattered little to me, knowing that she was here for my pleasure, even if it meant using her for release.

She gave a half-hearted bark that would put any dog to shame, and I withdrew my cock completely. "If that's what you call a bark then you obviously don't want my cock," I informed her. "Try again."

She hesitated a moment before attempting another bark, this one stronger, louder, than the first.

"Better," I praised. "Again."

She hesitated less this time, barking more confidently as she let some of her inhibitions go. Pleased with her, I guided my cock back between her legs and plunged into her in one, smooth thrust. She gasped as I filled her, shuddering in pleasure as her walls milked my cock, trying to draw it in further.

I fisted her leash, using it as leverage to pull her back onto my cock, and controlling the pace. I pulled out achingly slow, letting her feel every ridge and vein of my hard cock before stilling.

"Fuck yourself on my cock," I demanded. "Show Daddy how much you need his cock."

She rocked back against me, impaling herself on my cock over and over again, while I fought to keep my hips still, the hand wrapped around the leash demanding a faster pace. Her walls clenched and wrapped tightly around me, and I let my head fall back and my lips slacken in pleasure. Her tail brushed against my stomach, tickling my already sensitive skin.

"Bark!" I demanded, struggling to stay still. The sound that passed through her lips was closer to a howl, high-pitched and keening, than the sound I had requested, but the whines that followed, imploring and beseeching was enough for me to know that I had broken through her boundaries. She had let go, giving into the feelings that were buried deep inside of her, the feelings she had once feared and locked away just as I had.

I held a greater understanding now of what it felt like to release the weight of desires in want of satisfaction, to crave things of someone freely, knowing that they'd cradle you in their grasp and swoop you up, bringing you higher than you thought possible. It was a beautiful sight to witness-her complete submission, the faith and trust she placed blindly into my hands.

My control weakened, and I allowed the monster, the animal, inside me freedom, even if for just a few minutes. She wasn't prepared for my abrupt movement, one of my hands digging into the flesh of her hip, bruising her skin as I slammed my cock as deep as I could, fucking her pussy roughly.

She met me thrust for thrust, the feel of my cock pistoning into her tight, wet heat heavenly. I could feel the tension coil around my muscles as I took her with wild abandon, her cries and moans only serving to fuel my own lust. My blood felt as though it were on fire in my veins when I pounded into her, my pace hard and punishing as I possessed her completely, forcing her body to take every inch of me over and over again until her pussy was branded with my touch.

She quivered and strained, my grip on her leash practically causing her hands to rise off the ground. Her head was tipped as far back as far as it could go, and her lashes cast shadows across her cheeks and her lips parted to allow her cries to escape.

I released her hip, falling forward to crush my chest against her delicate spine as I fucked her, my hand wrapping around her chest, holding her to me. Our skin slapped loudly against each other, the force of my harsh thrusts, jolting her forward each time, the arm secured around her waist the only thing stopping her from tumbling.

A possessive need filled me, and I clamped my teeth down on the exposed column of her neck. She cried out loudly, her hips faltering slightly as her pussy fluttered, squeezing my cock tighter in its grip. I sucked and licked at her skin, nipping the once flawless skin until she was adequately marked. The hand grasping her leash was close to her throat, fisting the chain and pulling it taut, choking her with it.

Her gasps and pants were muffled and strained and sweat dripped down her body, mingling with mine as our skin slipped against each other. I wanted to stamp my name on her cervix with my cock, bruising her pussy and making it unfit for anyone but me to fuck. I wanted her to be able to feel me between her legs for days, the ghost of my cock lingering inside of her.

The best part was that she seemed to be enjoying every second of my rough treatment, offering herself up willingly and pushing back against me. She trembled and cried out desperately, giving as I took, using her body for my own selfish pleasure.

"Do not cum," I ordered gruffly from between my teeth, grasping her jaw and turning her face toward me. "Do you understand?

She opened her eyes, the struggle that had previously been in her gaze replaced by an excitement that was reflected in her dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. She nodded jerkily, pain etched across her face at the thought.

I pulled back, moving back to kneel behind her, both hands at her hips as I chased my orgasm. My thrusts became more furious and raw the closer I got, taking everything her body had to offer as my balls tightened and lifted. I grunted as my hips faltered, my thrusts jerking without clear rhythm as I came inside of her with a roar, emptying my balls and relieving the tension in my body. My cock twitched, and I shuddered with the aftershocks as I continued to move lazily inside of her, the beast inside me sated for the time being.

I pulled my softening cock out of her pussy, her walls fluttering and clinging to it in a weak attempt to keep me inside, her body begging for some kind of relief. It wasn't often that I fucked her without a condom, even though she was on the pill, and I felt a primal sense of satisfaction watching my cum drip from her unsatisfied pussy and down her thighs.

My hands trembled slightly as I righted my pants, buttoning them and redoing my belt before tucking my shirt back into them.

"What color are you?" I asked, watching her squirm, her tail swishing with the movement.

"Green," she whimpered.

"Good girl," I praised before getting to my feet, my legs feeling weak from the intensity of my orgasm. "Heel."

Her movements were clumsy as she twisted around to face me, lumbering along next to me unsteadily on her hands and knees as I guided her down the hall to my room. Somehow, she managed to keep her balance as she trotted along at my feet, stumbling now and again but always righting herself. I could tell her incoordination embarrassed her, but unlike the last time I'd made her crawl, she was more focused on me and what I wanted from her than on how silly she looked.

I had set up a pallet by my bed that was to be her dog bed, the two bowls next to it for her food and water.

"Drink," I told her, urging her toward her water bowl. She hesitated for a moment before moving over toward it and lowering her upper half cautiously until her face hovered over the bowl. She began lapping at it, her tongue gaining enthusiasm as she realized just how thirsty she was. Water spilled from the bowl and dripped down her chin as she drank. While she was distracted, I tied my end of the leash to the closest bedpost, giving her enough slack to be able to reach her pallet and bowls but no further. I, of course, knew that she could easily undo it if she so chose, but I was counting on her submission to keep her tethered here for as long as I deemed it necessary.

She was startled when she moved, only to find herself restrained, her gaze moving between mine and the bedpost. She tugged at it, her expression confused, and let out a questioning whimper.

"I want you to rest," I explained.

She shook her head, crawling toward me as far the leash would let her and tried to curl her body around my leg, pressing her face into my thigh. She let out a mewl and nuzzled my thigh, scratching her nails lightly against my slacks as she silently pleading with me not to leave her in here.

I almost broke when she looked up at me from beneath her lashes, her bottom lip jutted out into a pout, but somehow I managed to hold fast and extract her grip from me.

She started whining when I moved back out of her reach, her expression changing from pitiful to one of determination as she turned around so that her ass was facing me and wiggled it provocatively.

I chuckled in amusement at her antics. "What?" I asked.

She pushed her ass closer in my direction, looking back over her shoulder, gazing pointedly at me.

"You want release?" I guessed.

She quirked her brow in a way that she wouldn't mind that suggestion before shaking her head.

"A spanking?" I guessed again.

She nodded, bobbing her head a little bit too enthusiastically. Suddenly, it clicked. In the past I had offered her a choice of a spanking instead of a nap, and she was attempting to bargain that deal with me.

"You want a spanking instead of a nap?" I asked, just to be certain.

She nodded again, and I smirked at her. I wasn't even sure that she realized it, but she was attempting to manipulate me in order to get out of a clear order. Little did she know that I was smarter than to fall for something like that, not that she guessed since I had my own tricks up my sleeve.

Her face lit up in triumph, a triumph that would be short lived as I moved in behind her, lowering myself to my knees.

"Are you sure you want this?" I asked, giving her one last chance to back down. She hesitated, thinking it over before nodding.

She braced herself as I raised my hand and delivered a firm spank to her ass, the sound seeming to resound in the room. My fingers tingled from the impact, my eyes hungrily taking in the way the blood rushed to the surface of her ass, the mark angry as she jerked against me. She cried out, her breathing quickening as she quivered, her body compartmentalizing the pain.

I rubbed her abused skin, soothing it for a moment before bringing my hand down on her ass again in a different spot. My fingers tingled from the force and a surge of exhilaration ran through me as my cock twitched.

I started out slowly, the sound of my hand connecting to her ass sharp yet thrilling. My eyes stayed trained on what I was doing, watching each clench and flex of her jiggling cheeks. I slowly built up a rhythm, adding more pressure with each spank. I alternated the spanks between her cheeks until the blood pooled to the surface, giving her ass a nice pink glow. These weren't gentle spanks, they were harsh and lingering, the kind that would stay with her for the rest of the day. The intent behind each spank was clear, and the force bestowed upon her supported that, the feel of her squirming, and hearing her suppressed whimpers, only encouraging me to be harsher.

The leash tied to the bedpost kept her from moving too far away from the punishment of my hand until her whimpers started to fade as she sunk into that place in her mind where she was safe and little. Her head lolled and she trembled, soft sighs and breathless moans escaping. I kept in full control at all times, each spank calculated and with purpose.

I could feel the heat radiating off her skin, hovering in the air between our bodies once I finished. I massaged her sore and tender flesh, not wanting to leave any lasting marks on her.

"Down," I coaxed, helping her to lower herself until she was curled up on her sides, her legs up close to her chest. Her eyelids were heavy, and she acted as though she was wrapped in a haze.

"Sleep," I encouraged her. She frowned slightly, her expression perplexed as she opened her mouth to protest. I covered her mouth with my hand to stop her from earning herself another punishment and kissed her forehead gently. "You didn't really think I'd let you manipulate me like that, did you?" I asked her.

She gave me a look of contriteness, her bottom lip pouting out as she sighed and relaxed back onto her pallet. She didn't attempt to fight me, knowing that she had been the one in the wrong. She simply reached out, curling her tail around her body before leaning her head on her arm and stared up at me solemnly.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, little pet. Don't try and fuck with Daddy because he will always win," I told her matter-of-factly as I moved to fetch the cuffs off my nightstand.

Since her hands were folded beneath her head, it was easy to cuff them together, forcing her to not be able to move her arms without trouble, not that they could get very far. "Not that I don't trust you, but we both know that you like to touch yourself when you're asleep."

She blushed at that, probably remembering some of the times she'd woken up with her hand between her legs, which usually led to sex. I checked to make sure the cuffs weren't too tight on her wrists, the leather loose enough not to cut off her circulation but tight enough for her not to be able to wiggle out of them.

I could tell that she wasn't too pleased about being left alone, cuffed and leashed, but she seemed determined to be more cooperative to my requests, closing her eyes and evening out her breathing. I brushed my lips gently across her forehead and stroked my thumb across her cheek before standing up and leaving the room, keeping the door ajar.

My first order of business was to prepare lunch—Kraft dinner with frozen peas—one of the few things I was capable of making without the use of a microwave. Once it was ready, I grabbed a plate and turned on the tv for background noise, the drone of the news filled the silence. I took my time eating as my mind calculated my next steps, building upon the scene that I was executing.

I took my time, picking up her robe and anything else I had left lying around the living room, wanting Isa to have at least an hour to nap before I woke her. Once I deemed enough time had passed, I made my way into my bedroom, pushing the door open to find her curled up into a fetal position, sleeping soundly. She was oblivious to my presence as I refilled her water bowl and put the macaroni and cheese in her food bowl before nudging her awake.

She grunted in annoyance, her bottom pouting out and her brows furrowing as consciousness slowly started to break through her sleep.

"Come on, little pet. Time to wake up," I crooned softly, disconnecting the chain between her cuffs.

She slowly blinked open her eyelids, looking sleepy and confused for a moment when she found she couldn't move very far. After blinking a few times, recognition flashed in her gaze, and she peeked up at me shyly, her cheeks flushing.

"Look who's up," I teased, stroking the soft skin of her stomach. She stretched her muscles and yawned, humming and purring at the attention.

You like that, don't you, little pet? You like it when Daddy scratches your stomach," I cooed. She released a sigh of pleasure as my hand dipped down between her legs, finding her as wet and warm as she had been before her nap. She rolled onto her back, letting her eyes flutter closed as she raised her knees and spread her legs, giving me better access to her pussy. Her clit was swollen and begging for attention as my fingers danced across it, sweeping and grazing teasingly over her needy flesh.

"Time to get up," I told her after a moment, removing my hand from her pussy and bringing my fingers to her lips to clean. She whimpered as she cleaned her own arousal off my fingers before clambering up unsteadily onto her hands and knees with a pout. She perked up a little when she saw that there was food in her bowl, trotting over to it before pausing as she calculated the best way to eat without getting food all over herself.

After a few dainty bites that succeeded in getting very little, she gave in, diving face first into her bowl and smearing it all over her face. I stood off to the side, arms folded across my chest, both fascinated and mildly disgusted by the way she was eating.

She sat back once she was done, licking her lips and using the back of her hands to get some of the sauce off her cheeks and into her mouth. She gazed up at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell her what to do next. Her eyes lit up when I untied her from the bedpost and led her to the bathroom.

"You have five minutes to wash up and use the bathroom. Do you need to have your tail removed?" I questioned. She thought for a moment before shaking her head in the negative.

"Okay. Remember: five minutes," I reminded her as I unclipped her leash. She nodded and stood up, arching her back and stretching her muscles before stepping into the bathroom to attend to her needs. I left her to it, instead bringing out the items I would need for the next part of the scene and placing them on the bed.

She managed to reappear with one minute to spare, immediately dropping back to her hands and knees once she crossed the threshold of the bathroom. She crawled to where I was sitting at the edge of my bed, sitting on her haunches and pressing her face into my knee with a sigh.

I stroked a hand through her hair affectionately and righted her ears. "Are you okay to continue? What color are you?"

"Green, Daddy."

"Good girl. You should drink before we start again. I don't want you get dehydrated."

She obeyed without question, moving over to her bowl to lap up some water, her ass high in the air and still pink from her spanking.

"Is you plug still comfortable?" I asked, leaning over to run her tail through my fingers. I knew she had been training her ass over the months to take plugs inside her for longer, but it had been a few hours, and I didn't want to push her past what was comfortable. She let out a low moan at my gentle tugging, clenching her cheeks and shuddering as she poked her head up long enough to give me a nod before going back to her water. Once she was done, she crawled back over to me, water dripping from her chin. She wiped her mouth on my slacks, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she did so, and I pushed her away gently, chuckling.

"Beg, little pet," I ordered. "And Daddy may just find a way for you to earn yourself an orgasm." My words were all the enticement she needed, her actions positively eager as she tipped back, resting back on her haunches as she raised her arms, tucking her elbows close to her sides as she curled her hands and let her tongue loll out.

I chuckled at her exuberance. "You're too cute."

She blushed and gazed coyly at me from beneath her lashes. Her coyness turned to confusion as I reached for her collar, unbuckling and removing it. I replaced with a different one, a wider one shaped somewhat like a mini corset that made her immediately straighten her back and posture in general just as Madame Rosa had promised. It was a posture collar meant to help her gain some grace while I had her on her hands and knees—or any other position I chose to put her in. The thought had never previously occurred to me, but Madame Rosa had been quite adamant on its importance, which I now saw was duly needed.

The collar forced her chest to thrust forward as she arched her neck back, allowing me to easily clip the leash in place.

"We're going to have a bit of fun, little pet, and if you do well, you might just earn yourself an orgasm," I informed her.

I stood, making her eye-levelwith my cock, which strained against the front of my slacks. She looked enthralled, her eyes transfixed upon it until I shifted, walking around her with a chuckle. I unwound her hair, her nap having caused a lot of stray hairs to emerge, and combed my fingers through it before retying it and righted her ears. I stepped forward until I stood over her, my legs on either side of her body, relishing in her shiver as the edges of my slacks brushed against her bare skin.

"I want to work on your posture," I explained, pressing my knee between her shoulder blades, nudging her forward until she shifted back onto her hands and knees. I kept my knee in place, applying a slight amount of pressure that pushed her shoulders back and her chin out.

"Better. Spread your legs a little, it'll help with your balance issues," I told her, retrieving the blindfold from my pocket. Her breathing stuttered as I slipped it over her eyes, securing it around her head. The style of the blindfold was similar to that of a sleep mask, and I waved a hand in front of her face to make sure she couldn't see.

"Can you see anything?" I questioned.

She shook her head, tipping to the side slightly as she tried to find her equilibrium, leaning against my leg. I reached down, righting her position and tightened the grip of my legs on either side of her, immobilizing and centering her.

"I'm right here," I soothed, splaying a hand in her hair. "What color are you?"

"Green," she breathed, the word sounding almost like a sigh of relief as the tension slowly seeped out of her.

"Good girl, now straighten your posture. It's sloppy, and I want my little pet to look her best so that she can make her Daddy proud."

I removed my hand and unbuckled my belt, sliding it through the loops until it was freed. I folded it in half and gave her a gentle, yet firm swat against her thigh

She cried out at the unexpected sting of my belt, her body lurching forward, almost collapsing on her elbows as she scrambled to comply with my demand. Her eagerness and determination to please me was a humbling sight, the look of pure concentration on her face as she tried to replicate the position I had put her in enough to have my chest tighten with a mixture of pride and love.

I dragged my belt along her side, feeling her tense and shiver as it slipped over her hip to her ass. With a flick of my wrist, it swished through the air and connected with her flesh. Since she was more prepared for it, she was able to control her reaction better, her cry more a soft mewl, and she tensed.

"I thought I told you that I wanted those legs spread. I don't want you to be tempted to rub them together."

She swallowed tightly, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips, and slowly spread her thighs apart. I waited until her breathing had evened out before continuing with my lesson.

"Here is what we're going to do. You're going to crawl for me, but since I have taken your sight away from you, you'll move according to the cues I give you. I'll be in charge of the speed and direction you go in, but here's the catch: I won't be directing you verbally. Your complete focus will be on me and the way I move because that is what you will take your cues from. If I take a step forward,.." I demonstrated by taking a slow, exaggerated step. "...then you copy. If I nudge you like this..." I pushed the heel of my foot into her right thigh. "...then you go right, and the same goes for the left. If you go too fast then I'll give two tugs on your leash, and if you go too slow then I'll give you one. Did you get all of that?"

She nodded, and I smiled. "Good. Let's go."

I started out slowly, and she cautiously reciprocated my movements, a slight lapse of time occurring between our steps until she began to gain a little more trust and confidence. My grip on her leash and the sting of my belt were helpful reminders of her posture as we gradually made our way around the room.

Each time I shifted, she copied, gradually becoming aware of my movements on a different level. I changed things up every so often to keep her on her toes, her mind tuning in with mine as she pieced together my pattern, anticipating my next move with a new-found knowledge. When I moved, slowing and quickening my pace in an effort to throw her off, she followed seamlessly, her crawl synchronized and choreographed to my actions to the point that we moved as one not two, the tugs of the leash no longer needed.

I kept a close eye on her, continually checking up on her to make sure she was all right as I walked her around my apartment, her crawl now holding a sensual sway and a graceful tread. That wasn't to say that she didn't get her a fair amount of swats from my belt along the way, her thighs was littered with faint red marks, but she was a quick study.

Her breathing quickened with exertion and her hair clung to her damp skin as she began to tire, the constant friction of her knees against the carpet beginning to hurt by the time I stopped. She looked relieved as I moved to stand in front of her, removing the blindfold, her shoulders sagging from their tense pose. She blinked rapidly for a moment, looking around to find herself back in my bedroom before leaning to press her face against my thigh as she tried to catch her breath.

"You've been such a good little pet for Daddy today," I murmured, stroking a hand through her hair for a moment before unbuckling her posture collar so that she could relax her neck. I massaged the knots out of it, her head lolling in pleasure as she sighed in relief. I was sure she'd strained some muscles that she wasn't even aware she possessed today,

"End of scene," I murmured, needing to say the words to allow them to register in my brain.

I couldn't describe to you how I felt in the wake of our scene. This was by far the furthest we had ever pushed ourselves, the intensity of it still humming furiously through my body. My shirt clung to my back where sweat had slipped down the back of my neck, and my heart was beating double time.

My thoughts darted back to the night Isa had forgiven me, how I'd made love to her on her couch, and I couldn't help but compare the feelings I had experienced then to what was currently spreading through me. I was both lost and found, euphoric and solemn, tired yet full of energy. It was a heady feeling, something akin to what my art created in me. It was a full feeling like that of a balloon expanding within my stomach, stretching my skin until I was almost bursting.

I crouched down before her, cupping her cheek in my hand, the touch of her skin grounding me. She leaned into my touch, her gaze drifting to mine so that I could see the same battle, the same dichotomy of feelings in her expressive eyes. I kissed her forehead softly, lovingly, drawing strength from her. My arms wrapped around her body as I scooped her up in my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her touch was timid as she cautiously snaked her arms around my neck, her grip slack, yet her nails dug into my skin.

I carried her to my bed, sitting on the edge of it with her draped across my body, her head buried in my neck and her legs hanging off my lap. She lay on her side, her ass facing outward, and I removed her ears from her hair, tossing them carelessly to the side.

"I'm going to take your plug out now, okay?" I murmured, knowing that though she drifting in her space, she was still lucid.

She let a strained mewl when I started to gently maneuver the plug from inside, and I shushed her, murmured words of encouragement to her. "That's a good girl," I murmured, feeling her relax the muscles she had tensed up. "Daddy is so proud of you."

Her breathing hitched in response, and she curled her body tighter around mine, letting the words I was sure she was desperate to hear wash over her. "You were so good for Daddy, Princess. You did so well, and you made Daddy so happy."

Each word that left my mouth, praising her and her submission to me, brought her closer to breaking, the state she was in leaving her vulnerable and raw to everything I said. I knew—though she had never outright told me—that on some level she craved validation, that there were times when she just needed someone to tell her that she was good enough. It was something that I was quite certain that she hadn't received enough as a child. Though she made excuses and brushed it off like she didn't care, I knew her parents hadn't given her the attention she had needed as a child.

Sure, they were there, and they tried to make time and room in their lives for her, but those moments were too few and far between to truly balm the wound that their divorce had caused her.

When I had abandoned her—there was no other way for me to describe what my idiocy had caused me to do—I had brought back those feelings of inadequacy. It was something that I wasn't sure that I could forgive myself for. I had almost destroyed our relationship with my actions, and I knew despite her forgiveness, some of those feelings of not being good enough lingered. It wasn't something that I, as her boyfriend, could rid her of, but as her Daddy, it was within my power to draw her back to the place where she was confident in herself and who she was.

I hadn't lied to her when I told her that our scene hadn't been about forgiveness, and on some level it hadn't even been about punishing her, it had been about us.

Our relationship was both complicated and simple in its own way, and to an outsider it was hard to understand, but it worked for us. When Garrett had told me that my fuck up had been a good thing, I had been skeptical and disbelieving, but having her here, in my lap, on the cusp of breaking down, I understood. I knew her better now, seen her in ways that were impossible to discover without conflict, and I could love her better than I could have previously.

Our fight had stripped us both of our armor and without that protection, we had been forced to see ourselves and each other in a light that hadn't been altogether flattering. I had explained to Isa that we both possessed more than one personality and that they reacted to each other. When things had come to head, we'd both taken blows not to just as a boyfriend and girlfriend, but to the other parts of us.

There was no one personality without the other, and when hurt and pain went as deep as it had between us, I had no other choice but to deal with it on all different levels. Just because Isa had forgiven me, it didn't mean that the little inside her wasn't still feeling insecure and lost, or that her other personality—the one that sat in between the little and Isa—wasn't holding a grudge.

It may have sounded crazy or like we were both suffering from some sort of multiple personality disorder, but that was the best way I could think to describe it.

"So good, such a good girl," I crooned as the largest part of the plug slipped free from her body. "You've been so brave, Princess, so strong for Daddy. Say it, Princess. Tell Daddy how good and strong and brave you've been."

She nodded, a choked sob catching in her throat as she sniffled. "I-I've been good, Daddy, really good." She peeked up at me, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes as she searched for confirmation in my gaze.

"That's right, and what else?" I pressed gently.

"St-strong and brave, Daddy, I did my best to be strong and brave without you there, but it was so hard." Tears spilled down her cheeks at her admission, and her breathing was coming out in quick pants as she tried to reign in her burgeoning emotion. My hand swept over her stomach, rubbing soothing circles in her skin.

"Shhh, let it out, Princess. It's over now. Daddy's here. Let Daddy be strong and brave for you."

My words destroyed her and she shattered, splintering into a million pieces as she slumped in my arms, sobs wracking through her body. It felt like someone had shanked me with a serrated blade listening to her wail, purging herself of her wounds. I could see now that she had never fully grieved for the time we had spent apart, too busy fighting to stay afloat. By the time I came back, there had been so much to deal with that she'd pushed it aside.

I knew I couldn't have gotten her to open up like this if she hadn't been so deeply immersed in her submission, in being little. Big girls weren't supposed to cry, to show weakness, or at least that was the image that so many women projected. Society encouraged suppression of self, rejecting anything that was considered awkward or unusual, even emotion. It wasn't a stretch to understand why people turned to other outlets to allow themselves the release they needed.

I rocked her, my lips at her ear, murmuring secrets and confessions to her. I told her how in awe of her strength of her I was, how I'd never leave her again, how much I loved her and that she was everything to me. I thanked her for her submission, explaining how it made me feel. I continued talking until there were no more words to be said and no tears to be shed, leaving us both pure and cleansed.

She was limp as I lay her down on my bed, exhausted by everything that had occurred, but the way she looked up at me, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot made the very breath in my lungs flee. I was kneeling between her legs, half hovering over her body, one hand pressed into the mattress by her head when she reached for me, her arms trembling.

They curled around my neck, slipping into my hair and grasping it loosely, guiding my head down until my forehead connected with hers. Our noses brushed against each other as we stared as deep into each others eyes as we dared. Our lips hovered over each other, almost touching as we breathed each other in.

"Let me love you like you deserve," I whispered into her mouth, using the hand I wasn't using to prop myself up with to stroke her cheek. "Let me worship you like the goddess you are."

My lips parted and skimmed hers before descending down her body. She didn't fight me as I caressed and bathed every inch of her skin with my lips and hands, massaging the kinks out of her joints and worshipping her body as though it was a temple, and I her faithful priest. I left no place untouched, my tongue lazily rolling her niplle back and forth as I copied the movement with my fingers on her other breast. I touched, groped and fondled every piece of available skin, searching every dip and crevice of her upper body and soothing the irritated skin where my belt had hit before skipping down to her feet .

My hands kneaded the muscle of her ankle as my tongue laved over her foot from heel to toes. I trailed open-mouthed kisses along her legs, feeling her thighs quiver beneath my lips as I reached her thighs. I turned her over before the potent scent of her arousal could distract me from my task, paying the same amount of attention to the back as I had the front.

If it hadn't been for her encouraging sighs and groans, I would have thought she'd fallen asleep by how even her breaths were and how still she lay. I rolled her back over, spreading her legs for me as I lowered my face between her thighs. The thick scent of her arousal was addictive, and I placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss on her mound just above her swollen lips.

I pressed my hands into her fleshy hips as she squirmed, holding her still. I nuzzled her pussy, my nose brushing against her plump clit, the tip peeking out from between her folds. I gave into the call of her flesh easily, her juices coating my lips as I devoured her. My tongue held no hesitancy as it delved into the sweet abyss of her pussy. My eyes fluttered shut and I groaned, the feeling of her gushing into my mouth indescribable. Her hands threaded through my hair, holding me to her, her fingers twisting and clutching it tightly as she trembled, her hips shifting as much as they could under my grip.

I was lost, sinking like a rock in the ocean, drowning in pleasure. I was dragged, willingly, away from reality, time having no significance to me as her sweet ambrosia spilled into my mouth, reminding me that she was mine and only mine. It felt as though as I was underwater, her chorus of moans and incoherent curses mixed in with my name sounding distant when I was so focused on bringing my goddess to the edge.

I sucked and licked her pussy, my pace unhurried as I ate her out, my teeth scraping gently over her sensitive clit. She jerked against me, forcing my face deeper until she eclipsed every one of my senses. All I could do was smell her, taste her, touch her, hear her, and see her; nothing else registered or mattered.

Her thighs quivered on either side of my head, her muscles clenching and tightening as she rose up, climbing higher and higher until she could go no further. The only way for her to go now was down.

The trembling in her body became more pronounced until she fell over the edge, a scream catching in her throat. Spasms shook her body and she sobbed in relief as pleasure flooded her, erasing any pain and discomfort from having been teetering on the edge for so long. She was completely unrestrained, my hands losing their hold on her hips as she bucked her hips up, riding out the waves of her orgasm as the pleasure washed over her. Her release caused a new wave of arousal to flow from her body, and I lapped it up greedily.

I moved my lips upward, tracing the lines of her pelvis and tasting the sweat on the softness of her stomach as she calmed. I nuzzled my face in the valley between the supple globes of her breasts, holding up my weight by my elbows as I let the moment sink in. I didn't feel the rush for sexual gratification, and while my cock pulsed, throbbing in time with my heart, I didn't feel the usual desperate need that followed going down on her. That wasn't to say that the situation in my pants was comfortable, I was just determined to push my own discomfort aside in favor of concentrating solely on her.

She was practically asleep by the time I moved my body up so that our faces were level, her eyes little slits as she gazed at me.

She tugged me down by my hair, capturing my lips with her own in a slow, languid kiss. Our tongues delved and twisted, allowing her to taste her essence before I tucked her into bed, my lips flitting over her face as I peppered her with kisses. I splayed my hands out on her back, pulling her chest flush against mine.

"Thank you," she slurred sleepily, her voice still hoarse from crying. I didn't know how how I knew, but something deep in my gut told me that she wasn't just thanking me for the orgasm I had given her, but for much more.

I felt as though our fight no longer held weight in our lives. It was in the past, never to be brought up or used as ammunition. We had purged all our feelings, allowing us to move on without baggage or lingering doubts and insecurities. Though I knew we would have to talk about our scene and the events that followed once Isa woke, it felt like our fight had been reduced to nothing more than an inconsequential passing blip on our radar.

"No, baby, thank you."

**AN: Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: What is Carlisle's problem? Why did Edward have to send him on vacations? Does he think that he is losing Edward to Isa?**

**A: Joiks! Didn't realize this was a quick fire round. lol, just kidding, but Edward sent Carlisle on vacation because Edward needed some space and I bet Carlisle did too. They were really close for a long time and it's hard for anyone to accept that their "losing" someone they are love to another. I struggled with it when my sister got married, so I get where the C man is coming from.**

**Q: Will Garrett and Kate ever be asked to observe Edward and Isa's playtime?**

**A: *quirks brow* you'd like that, wouldn't you? I can't say with absolute certainty, but both Edward and Isa have a exhibitionism streak, so who knows where it could take them.**

**Q: I'm actually looking forward to him meeting her parents. I think that would be interesting - I'm sure he'd have a few choice words for they way they kinda neglected her. Is that happening soon?**

**A: *Fingers crossed* As with all things in this fic, I cannot strictly anticipate anything beyond what my characters decide to share with me.**

**Q: Will they go back to the BDSM club?**

**A: Oh, course. I do believe I said that we haven't seen the last of Madame Rosa.**

**Q: What general age is Isa's little?**

**A: Somewhere between nine and twelve.**

**Q:Will we hear from Isa about how she feels about the changes in her life since she has met E and they have delved into this lifestyle?**

**A: I do want to write a side scene from Isa's point of view, but I'm swamped with school and writing chapterd.**

**Q:When Edward and Isa reunited that morning and they decided to just snuggle together because they were both so exhausted, and this is probably a stupid question, but...wasn't Isa on her way to work?**

**A: Hah! I actually wanted to put something in the chapter explaining that, but let's just say that she called in to say she was sick.**

**Q: Will we maybe see a scene or two with Isa and Kate in little mode, or discussing their Daddies? Like maybe how they came to be littles, or why they like/need to be littles?**

**A: Again, when I get the time, I will do some outtakes and side shots. Maybe this will be one of them.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 19**

**AN: Thanks to Lostin Pa for helping me with the Jersey talk, and thanks to torissurfergirl and darcysmom for beta'ing. Sorry, this chapter is late, I was out camping at the Dead Sea this weekend.**

**Playlist:**

**Mirrors by Justin Timberlake**

**Laserlight by Jessie J**

**Female Robbery by The Neighbourhood**

**Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran**

**Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood**

She giggled, wriggling around, my grip on her ankle the only thing keeping me from smearing dark blue nail polish all over her foot.

"Keep still," I admonished, the laugh in my voice ruining the effect it was supposed to have.

She peeked at me from over her Macbook, unable to curb the smile dancing on her lips. "I can't help it when you keep tickling me. The brush is supposed to be used to paint my nails, not as a Chinese torture device," she said cheekily.

"Says the woman who couldn't be bothered to go out and pay twenty bucks to get a pedicure. I happen to remember a certain pouty girl coercing her boyfriend with sexual favors in return for painting her nails," I reminded her.

"And yet you've been at it for half an hour without any results."

I pulled a face, turning back to my task. Anyone who said painting nails was an easy task had obviously not done Isa's. There was no doubt that she had naturally beautiful feet with dainty toes, but she insisted on having them painted, and I was still trying to figure how to apply the polish without it coming out gloopy or lumpy.

"What are you up to over there anyway?" I asked distractedly, my tongue poking out in concentration in an effort to stay within the space of her actual nail and not paint her toe like I had done a time or two before. Thank God the remover was right next to me.

She blew her hair out of her eyes, tucking a few stray strands impatiently behind her ears, the humid air making her hair untamable and frizzy. "Blogging."

Her answer didn't surprise me. The punishment scene I had administered had kick started her into starting the Daddy/little blog she had been thinking about creating. She said that it had inspired her to start sharing her experiences so that other women or men could get a glimpse at the intimacy and security that relationship like ours could give. So many people saw D/s as kinky sex when it was so much more than that, and Isa had developed a passion for showing that to people through our dynamic.

She already had quite the slew of followers, and she loved the attention she was getting. She hadn't convinced me to allow her to start posting any pictures that could be considered even remotely risque, but we both knew it was only a matter of time before she got her way. My reluctance stemmed less from her posting pictures for the world to see—they would be anonymous after all—and more to do with the fact that I didn't want any punks trolling her blog to disrespect her. Isa had a beautiful body and to have someone debase that had me feeling protective of her. Ignorance was a powerful weapon when wielded correctly, and the last thing she needed was people commenting on her pictures to describe her supple curves that I loved so much as fat. Beneath her confidence, Isa was sensitive, and as her Daddy, I felt that it was my duty to protect that vulnerability.

We'd come to a short-term compromise that had her posting pictures she found on the internet of curvy girls mixed in with the BDSM theme she had going. It turned out that Isa had a real knack for writing mini stories to go with pictures, the tales of little girls and their Daddies both titillating and sweet.

"Anything dirty?" I asked with a knowing grin.

She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Always."

Any response I had planned to give was cut off by Isa's mobile ringing. She practically fell off the couch trying to reach for it in the middle of the coffee table, the bottom of her top rode up her stomach as she flailed, swatting at her phone before finally managing to bat it within reach.

"Hello?" she grunted, an eyebrow quirking in surprise at the response on the other side of the phone. She straightened up and pulled the phone away from her ear, holding it against her chest.

"It's my mom," she mouthed before lifting the phone back to her ear. "Hey, Mom, what's up?" She kept her voice casual and upbeat, but I could see the underlying unease in her expression. It wasn't often that Isa's mother called her, and even less often that it wasn't for something serious.

I watched Isa's expression as she spoke to her mother, the way the light in her eyes dimmed slightly and the permanent smile she had been sporting all day faltered. It wasn't that Isa wasn't close to her parents, it was more the fact that they treated her like she was their friend rather than their daughter. In a sense, it wasn't exactly a bad way to raise her—God knows there were much worse ways—and I knew they loved her, they just didn't know her, and you couldn't really connect with someone you didn't know on a deeper level.

I was trying to reserve judgment since I had never met them, but the information and stories I had gleaned from Isa had led me to believe that there were some negative feelings stewing beneath the surface that had not been resolved.

"Uh huh, that's great, Mom," she murmured distractedly while I finished up her nails and pretended that I wasn't eavesdropping. "Wait, here? Why?"

I peeked slyly up at her at the change in her tone, giving up all pretenses of painting her nails in favor of openly listening to the one-sided conversation. Isa looked upset about something, drawing her feet from my lap and climbing off the couch as she continued talking. "Dad and Sue, as well? Everyone?"

She chewed on the side of her thumb, her brows drawing together while she wandered around the room, pacing back and forth.

I cautiously followed her movements with my eyes from my place on the couch, resting my arms along the back of the couch while Isa tore around the room, taking her aggression out on the books and dishes left around from lunch. "I'm not home right now. It would have been nice to have been given a little warning before you sprang something like this on me."

She was silent for a moment as she listened to the reply, pausing in the middle of piling plates before rolling her eyes. "I don't care. You know how much I hate surprises."

My eyebrows rose at that since I had surprised Isa a time or two, and she had shown no adverse reaction to it. Though, I had an inkling it was more that she didn't like to receive surprises from certain people, namely, her family.

She sighed, raking a hand through her hair in resignation. "Fine! I can do dinner...I don't know, I'll ask, but don't hold your breath. Some people don't like to change their plans at the last minute," she said dryly. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too. Uh huh, I'll see you later. Say hi to the rest of them for me. Okay...yes, Mom, I know...goodbye."

She stared at her phone for a moment and sighed in frustration. "There goes my relaxing day. It turns out my whole family came down from Brooklyn to help Jacob move into his new apartment since he got into Columbia's graduate program, and are demanding that I make an appearance. Do you have plans for dinner?" she asked.

"We were supposed to meet up with my brothers and friends tonight for drinks to welcome Liam. He just got into the country a few days ago," I reminded her

"Shit, I completely forgot about that. Well, I guess I'm going to have to cancel. You should go though. I can deal with my family."

I wavered for a moment, a part of me wanting to take the clear escape she was giving to get out of meeting her family, while the other part told me that I had been putting off this inevitable meeting for far too long. Isa had bit the bullet and met my family a while ago, and it was about time I reciprocated.

I exhaled heavily and pushed off the couch, strolling over to where she was standing, looking a little forlorn. I wrapped an arm around her waist and rested my chin on her shoulder, coaxing her to lean back against me. "Or we could go to dinner with your family and then meet up with my friends later on," I suggested.

She twisted around my grip, her hands splaying flat against my chest as she peered up at me, hope in her eyes. "You would do that?" she asked. "I mean, I was going to introduce you to them separately because they are psychotic when put together, but it would make me really happy if you came and met them."

I grinned at her adorable rambling. "I think it's about time I bit that particular bullet. I mean, they're in town so we might as well get the first meeting over and done with and then afterwards, if you're still feeling up to it, we can grab a few drinks with my friends, I can introduce you to Liam and we can catch up a little."

"Have I mentioned that I love you?" she questioned, reaching up on the tips of her toes and kissing me. I hummed against her lips, my hands immediately gravitating down to grab handfuls of her ass, the pads of my fingers digging into her flesh. Her body instinctively fell into me, molding against me, her thigh hitching slightly around my leg while her fingers reached up, stroking my shoulders and neck lightly.

"You might have mentioned something along those lines earlier," I murmured distractedly in between kisses, focused on palming and fondling the supple cheeks of her ass.

She was soft and warm in my arms, her sweet scent infiltrating my senses as I tasted her succulent lips, so full and lush as they moved against my own. A low groan rumbled through my chest as her nails bit into the back of my neck, and she tilted her head, slanting her lips over mine. She gasped and giggled against my lips, her fingers slipping through the unruly tresses of my hair and winding through them, tugging, as I lifted her up onto the back of the couch. My lips curled up, my own amusement seeping through as my fingers danced down her spine.

I cupped the side of her throat, my thumb sweeping over the edge of her jaw while I pulled her bottom lip into my mouth, cutting of her laughter. She hummed, tilting her head to the side as her tongue flicked out, grazed lightly over my lips before darting boldly between them. The air crackled around us as our tongues mingled, slipping and sliding against each other.

Tension, due to the phone call with her mother, drained from her shoulders, and she sighed against my lips, compliant while I nipped at hers and allowed my tongue freedom to roam her mouth. My stomach twisted, tightening in want and my cock twitched, hardening beneath the layers of my jeans and boxers.

I dipped a hand beneath her top, my fingers splaying across the expanse her stomach, her skin warm and soft. I caressed her hip where her jeans had ridden down before skimming my hand up her stomach to her breasts. My movements dragged the fabric up with them, and I reveled in the unfettered access I had to her nipples now that her piercings had healed enough to make them not so sore. She arched her back to accommodate me, moaning wantonly against my mouth as I rolled the swollen bud between my fingers and tugged gently at it, her piercing making her so much more sensitive to my touch.

I tore my mouth from hers, needing to catch my breath and cool down a little becausehe way my cock was swelling and pushing against my zipper was beginning to become uncomfortable. She looked beautiful in the light streaming in through the windows, her hair rumpled, her lips swollen, and her eyes heavy-lidded. I caught a glimpse of her pearly teeth as she rolled her bottom lip back and forth between them, her gaze coy while her hand danced across the waistband of my jeans.

We communicated silently, the quirk of her brow asking how far we were going to take this, and the twitch of my lip saying that I was game for just about anything. Taking that as confirmation, she grasped the bottom of my T-shirt and pulled it up my chest, maneuvering it over my head with a bit of help from me. Her hands were warm as they descended on my chest, my muscles flexing beneath her touch. She peeked up at me from beneath her lashes when I reached for her, gliding my hand across her cheek before threading my fingers deep into her hair, curling them around strands of her hair and tugging her face forward roughly.

My mouth collided with hers harshly, and she scrambled for my jeans, yanking the button free from its hole and pulling my zipper down. She raised her legs, using her feet to dig into the back of my pants and work them down over my ass, while I made quick work of her top. Feeling her naked breasts crushed against my bare chest made me shudder, and I drove my tongue deeper into her mouth, forcing her head to strain back. I fumbled with her jeans, opening them far enough to slide my hand inside, cupping her over her panties. I groaned at the heat emanating from her pussy, the fabric of her panties damp from her arousal. I didn't have much room to maneuver so I let her rub against my hand while grinding my palm against her clit.

I shuddered as she reached for me, the heat of her skin seeping through mine as she hooked her fingers into my boxers and pulled them down over my swollen erection. She grasped my length lightly in her hands, swiping her thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum beading there as she played with my cock. My eyes fluttered shut briefly and my mouth fell open as my body accepted the pleasure she bestowed upon it.

We were lost in passion, oblivious to anything happening around us until a throat cleared on the other side of the room. I pulled back, dazed, wondering if I had imagined the sound as Isa nipped and sucked at my throat, leaving a fiery trail of heat and want in its wake.

My eyes roamed the room before they finally landed on Carlisle hovering in the doorway, his brows arched and his lips twitching in thinly veiled amusement. It wasn't the first time he'd come to find me in a compromising position, and I doubted that it would be the last. In my defense, he wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow, so it was more his fault that he'd walked in on this than mine.

"Baby," I murmured, prising her legs from around my waist, my cock weeping at the injustice of the situation. "We have an audience."

My words were enough to stop her merciless assault, her body freezing against mine. "Please tell me this is your version of a sick joke," she said lowly.

Carlisle, who had left the room to give us some privacy, started banging around the kitchen, most likely clearing up the mess we made from lunch.

"Shit," Isa mumbled, moving so quickly that she almost tipped over off her precarious perch on the back of the couch. I caught her and pulled her up before tugging my jeans up over my hips, cursing as I tucked my erection into them. Isa threw my T-shirt at me without warning and wiggled into her own top. We managed to straighten up our appearance to the point that we looked almost acceptable before I wandered over to the kitchen while Isa went to the bathroom, wondering what Carlisle was doing back anyway.

I cleared my throat to get his attention, folding my arms across the chest as I leaned against the counter. "What are you doing here? Your flight wasn't supposed to get in until tomorrow."

"And I can see that you were taking advantage of that fact," he answered with a smirk, his pale blue eyes dancing.

I shrugged, having long since conditioned myself to not be embarrassed in front of Carlisle, but couldn't help the twitch of my lips. "Just be glad you didn't come in ten minutes later."

He laughed outright at that. "Would you have lasted that long?"

I couldn't deny that I had missed the easy friendship Carlisle and I shared, and I could see that his trip had done wonders to both his attitude and demeanor. He looked more relaxed than I had seen him in a long time, and I almost wished that I had thought to give him more frequent holidays.

"Edward has brilliant stamina," Isa piped up, walking into the kitchen with the plates we'd used for lunch earlier. She gave me a shy look, obviously worried that she had interrupted something, but I drew her to my side, letting her curl her body around me. "Hi, Carlisle," she greeted him softly.

A wave of sadness passed across his eyes before he smiled softly at her. "Miss Swan. I fear I owe you an apology for my abominable behavior in the past. I fear that in my old age I've become rather...stale. I would be much obliged if you could find it in yourself to forgive me and allow us to turn over a new leaf."

Though his words were spoken formally, I could see the sincerity in his eyes, and I felt a rush of pride at Carlisle for admitting to his behavior and seeking repentance for it.

Isa, it seemed, felt the same because she was gracious in her reply, readily forgiving him without a second thought. "There's nothing to forgive. I understand how hard it is to let go of the people we care most about. You've had Edward to yourself for a long time and it takes awhile to transition from one place in a person's life to another. Now, if you'd asked me to forgive right after you passive-aggressively tried to embarrass me then my answer would have been very different and undeniably negative, but..." She shrugged like it was no big deal. "...I took the time to think everything over, and I realize that if I had felt threatened like you had then I would have reacted the same. That doesn't excuse your behavior, and I thank you for being man enough to admit that you treated me badly and are trying to set things right, but you have to know that I have no intention of replacing you or taking your place in Edward's life.

"You watched Edward grow up, and it was you who took care of him and was his support after his parents died. It's understandable that you're protective of him, and I respect that. God knows I love him, but I'm not his mother, and I have no interest in cleaning his sheets or doing his laundry. You should be happy that he didn't burn the place down in your absence. He needs you, and not because you're his butler, but because you're his friend, and whether he's willing to admit or not, he looks up to you. So, yes, Carlisle, I will oblige you in your plea to turn over a new leaf. I think a new start will be good."

She threw her hand out, looking at him expectantly.

"I was worried you wouldn't stop talking there for a moment," he joked lightly, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it.

She grinned. "You'll get used to my rambling," she answered, telling him without saying the words that she anticipated on both him and her sticking around in my life for a long time. Carlisle's and Isa's conciliation had taken a weight off my shoulders, and I mouthed a thank you to Carlisle before pulling Isa out of the kitchen, time slipping by a little too quickly for my liking.

"What time are we meeting your parents?" I asked.

"Not too late. My mom said that they hadn't really planned anything yet, just that wanted to have a 'family dinner' all together tonight. Though I'm not sure how they are going to get a reservation anywhere good with the amount of people and the fact that we only have a few hours."

"I can get us something if you like," I suggested, knowing that throwing around my name held its weight around the city..

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to impress my family," she teased.

"It doesn't hurt to start on the right foot," I admitted.

She leaned up on the tips of her toes, palming my cheek as she planted a chaste kiss on my lips. "And that's why I love you. Go ahead and book something, and I'll call my mom and tell her. Try aiming for somewhere between six-thirty and seven and make sure there's meat otherwise my dad will complain the whole time. Oh, and nothing too fancy."

"Got it," I told her. I spent the next hour making calls to restaurants in the area until I found someone willing to take a party of eight at the last minute. The Porter House was a fairly inexpensive restaurant with a great view of Southwest Central Park and was located on Columbus Circle. I'd been there before and knew the food was good, so, I'd made the reservation for six-thirty and hung up. I barely had time to catch my breath before I was once again dialing, this time to call to Emmett and tell him that we would be late tonight.

"Waddup, bro?" he answered after the phone had rung twice. "We still on for tonight?

"Hey, Kid. Yeah, we're on, but we are going to be late. Isa's family came into the city last minute and so we're having dinner with them. I don't think we'll be done till around nine or so, but we'll head on over afterward."

"Sucks. Liam's going to be disappointed. I swear the only reason he agreed to come out with us is because you'd be there."

"I'm still coming, I'm just going to be late. It's really important to Isa that I meet her family, and since she already met mine months ago, I kind of agree."

"I get it, I get it. No explanation needed. Go cozy up to her folks, and I'll try and keep Liam entertained until you arrive."

"Great, thanks. I owe you one, Em."

"No problemo. I'll be sure to collect on that at some point though, just so you know."

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see. "I wouldn't dream of thinking otherwise. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure. Say hi to Isa from me."

"Will do."

I hung up and went into my room where Isa was finishing up her call with her mother. "I reserved a table for six-thirty at the Porter House over on Columbus Circle," I informed her.

"Great, thanks baby," she said relieved, relaying the information to her mom before ending the call.

"Why don't you get ready, while I head back over to mine and do the same, and you can pick me up later?" she suggested, pulling her hair back out of her face and twisting a hair tie into it.

"Sounds good," I agreed. "But what should I wear? I don't want to get too dressed up and look like a prick, but I don't want to under dress and look like a...well, a prick."

She laughed. "You're so cute when you're all nervous and rambling. Just be yourself. We're not a formal lot, so just find a pair of nice, clean jeans and a shirt, and you'll look great."

I let out a sigh of relief and pulled her toward me, burrowing my face in her hair and breathing in her natural fragrance, trying to relax. She rested her head on my shoulder, and we just stood silently and swayed, almost as though we were dancing. We parted after a few minutes, reluctantly detangling ourselves before sharing a few, lingering kisses as she left.

I took a shower, my cock eager for attention after Carlisle's impromptu cock block, and was ransacking my closet for something appropriate to wear in my boxer briefs when Carlisle stopped by, his eyes drifting over the rapidly growing pile of clothes on my floor with a quizzical gaze.

"Would you like some help?" he asked.

I sighed, tugging on the pair of jeans I was holding. I zipped and buttoned them up before randomly grabbing a blue and grey plaid shirt. "I think I just about got it," I answered, rolling the sleeves up to my elbows and fixing the shirt, leaving a few buttons undone at the top.

"Here," Carlisle said, handing me a grey waistcoat. "It'll make you look a little more put together since there's not much we can do with your hair. Oh, and tuck your shirt in, you weren't raised by wolves."

I snorted, but did as I was told, allowing him to fuss over me like a mother hen until he deemed me ready. I'd brushed my hair back into an almost neat, but somewhat wild hairstyle that came closer to sex hair than anything else. Carlisle had frowned when I chose to wear my worn, black Docs, but didn't comment, even when I tucked my jeans into them. I grabbed my wallet, keys, cigarettes, and phone, shoving them unceremoniously into my pockets as I left, throwing a goodbye over my shoulder.

Anticipating the fact that I would be drinking, I took a cab over to Isa's apartment and buzzed up to her apartment. I wasn't sure if I would ever even begin to acclimate myself to Isa's beauty as she yet again astounded me by answering the door in a deep turquoise dress. It was strapless, the swells of her breasts peeking out innocently, with a thin tan brown belt around the waist.

She seemed to have been successful in her efforts to tame her hair, the way it was expertly coiffed and piled on her head with a few curled strands falling in her face complementing her features.

"You look breathtaking," I breathed, a little dumbstruck as I stepped into her apartment.

"I better with the amount of time it took me to do my hair," she murmured, her focus on a small compact mirror as she applied lip gloss. She smacked her lips when she finished, giving her face a quick once-over in the mirror before snapping it shut.

"Wow, someone made an effort tonight," she complimented, her eyes smoldering as they took me in. "Carlisle helped you dress, didn't he?"

I pretended to look offended. "Are you suggesting that without his help I would not have made an honest attempt to look nice?"

She smiled. "Of course not, but you'd never wear a waistcoat unless someone else coerced you into it."

I shrugged, unable to deny her words. "You know me too well."

"I should hope so. I am, after all, your girlfriend. Now, let me grab my coat and bag, and we can go subject ourselves to my family. Yay!"

I laughed at her false enthusiasm and leaned back against the wall, happy to wait by the door. It took her a good five minutes to emerge in a tan brown leather jacket with matching shoes. She said a quick goodbye to Minion, who didn't look like she cared in the slightest, before grabbing her keys and following me out.

"How are you feeling about the impending meeting with my dysfunctional family?" she asked as we walked out of her building.

I gave a short laugh through my nose and pulled out my pack of cigarettes, reminding myself that I really needed to quit the little buggers. "Not nervous so much as wary," I confided, tapping out a cigarette and slipping it between my lips. I cupped my hand over the tip while I lit it and inhaled. "I mean, it isn't that I don't think they'd like me, but we're fucking, which is all the reason your ex-Ranger father needs to hate me, and I get off on being in control, which I doubt your liberal, feminist mother would approve of."

Isa looked amused by my words. "You do realize that I'm not in the habit of discussing the intimate details of my life with my parents, don't you?"

"Of course."

"So, there is no way either of them know shit about my bedroom activities, whether it be the frequency or my preferences."

"I guess, but sex is somewhat a given. I mean, we've been dating for how long now?"

"Umm, around six months, I think."

I quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "You don't know?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

She immediately turned defensive. "Why would I remember the exact date we met?"

I shrugged. "I just thought women liked to keep track of things like this. You know, so that they can spring random anniversaries on their unsuspecting boyfriends."

She snorted. "Men are notoriously famous for never remembering dates. Hell, do you even remember when my birthday is, let alone the exact date of our first meeting?"

"Of course I remember when your birthday is," I scoffed, wracking my brains for that particular date. "It's in September."

She seemed mildly impressed by my answer. "September the what?"

I scratched my head as my brows knit together in thought. "Somewhere near the middle?" I guessed, which caused her to roll her eyes at me. "What? I'm nervous. You shouldn't even be asking me questions right now."

I hailed a cab before she could make a retort, opening the door for her to step in first like the gentleman I was. She paused just before getting in, turning to face me with a long, calculating stare. "Next Tuesday will be our six month anniversary. I was reading The Hobbit the day we met and ended up late for practice because of you."

I stared after her wide-eyed as she ducked into the cab. "I thought you just said that you didn't know when it was that we met?" I reminded her, sliding in next to her while she gave the driver our destination.

She shrugged. "It came back to me while you trying to figure out when my birthday was. I'd set a reminder on your phone if I were you because now that you've brought it up I expect you to take me out to celebrate six months of me keeping you around. Oh, and my birthday is on the thirteenth."

"Why do I feel like you're one step ahead of me most of the time?"

She laughed, throwing her head back to reveal the pale arch of her neck as her eyes danced with mirth. "You know that I like to keep you on your toes. It makes things interesting."

"That it does. Though I doubt you'd ever become predictable. There's just too much contained in that body of yours for you to run out of ways to surprise me."

She smirked, casting me a suggestive glance. "You haven't even begun to scratch the surface of all the things hiding beneath the surface, but I'm sure it'll be fun to discover them together."

I couldn't help but leer at her a little, her words bringing to mind some of the scenes we had done together, exploring our fetish in ways that I had never thought of. The glimpses into her mind that she gifted me with in her journal were a treasure that I devoured with the hunger of a man starved for days.

Though I made it a point to talk to her at the nearest available time after a scene, it was easier for her to be more candid, more honest, when writing it down in a safe place than spoken directly to me. It helped me dissect our scenes, reading what parts she had enjoyed or the parts she had been unsure about, so that I knew how to anticipate and understand her reactions for the next scene.

With the punishment scene, she'd described her initial hesitation and reluctance to follow through with the scene once she'd found out her task, but gradually she had allowed herself to focus on the trust and respect she held for me to help guide her through it. Though she had been embarrassed to admit, she had enjoyed the scene, the harshness of being denied release after continual stimulation and being used at my whim, even the humiliation had aroused her to a certain extent.

I'd definitely pushed her, especially emotionally, and she'd admitted to thinking about asking me to slow down a little at one point, but she'd waited and I'd eventually backed up a little without her having to tell me to. Her reluctance to use her safeword was a little worrying to me. It wasn't that I wanted her to fling it out whenever she pleased, but holding back like she had could one day end up with her getting really hurt. I'd tried to talk to her about it, explaining that her safeword was for both our sakes. I didn't feel comfortable testing and pushing her out of her comfort zone if she couldn't bring herself to tell me when enough was enough.

I'd talked to Garrett about it, looking for some assurance and guidance. He had agreed with me about the situation, but explained that a sub's first use of a safeword was the hardest to extract because of a fear of disappointing and upsetting their Master. He'd reassured me by telling me that it had less to do with me as a Daddy and more to do with her not yet understanding her own boundaries and what could happen if pushed too far.

"You look too serious," Isa commented, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?" I questioned distractedly, noticing that we were drawing near our destination.

"You're frowning and your lips are turned down," she explained.

I smoothed out my expression until it was neutral, smiling softly at her. "I was just thinking hard," I said nonchalantly.

"Oh? What about?" she asked curiously.

"About things nosy little girls don't need to be privy to," I announced, reaching for my wallet just as the cab pulled up. She let out a gasp of offense as I paid the driver, not bothering to wait for me to come round to open her door. She got out, her arms crossed over her chest, huffing in annoyance, her adorable pout making me chuckle.

"Come here, Princess," I cajoled, catching her around the waist when she tried to flounce past me. "I was just teasing you, okay? I'll tell you what I was thinking so hard about, just not now. It's something we need to take our time discussing, and the last place I want to do that is on the sidewalk with people walking by. We need to be in the right frame of mind, and now is not the appropriate time for you to be calling me 'Daddy.'"

She softened at my explanation, tipping her head back and threading a hand through my hair as I ducked my head down to kiss her. Our lips had barely touched before someone cleared their throat nearby. I wasn't sure what it was with people interrupting us today, but it they really needed to stop before I lost my shit.

I sighed and glanced up to find a large man with thick ropes of muscles bulging from his crossed arms staring at us, unimpressed. He had short, dark curly hair with a smattering of grey hairs and eyes that were a little too familiar.

"Please tell me that isn't your father," I mumbled.

She giggled and detangled herself from me. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" she teased before skipping over to her father. "Dad, stop glaring at my boyfriend and give me a hug," she demanded, turning his attention away from me, his face transforming from a stony expression to soft one.

"Hey, baby girl," he greet gruffly, engulfing her in a hug while I tried unsuccessfully to keep my wits about me.

"Oh, Isabella's hea'! Oh, and she brought company." A thick, North Jersey accent exclaimed, and a olive-skinned woman sashayed forward in a simple black, belted dress that reached the floor. As much as I tried not to, I couldn't help but notice her ample cleavage and round hips. Her hair was a silky black and hung down straight over her shoulders. Sunglasses covered half of her face, shielding it from view, but even so, I could tell she was a beautiful woman.

"Hi, Sue, how are you?" Isa greeted, detangling herself from her father to give her step-mother a hug.

"Eh." She waved Isa's inquiry off with a flick of her wrist. "Yaw fatha' keeps me young. Now, introduce me to yaw man."

Isa cast me a sheepish smile, her cheeks flushing as she reached for me, twining her fingers through mine. Her palm was so small compared to mine, delicate and soft where mine was rough and large. She glanced over at me, giving my hand a little squeeze as she tugged me forward. We held each other's gaze for an immeasurable moment, communicating without words before I forced myself to focus back on the impending introductions.

"Dad, Sue, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Edward."

"Nice to meet you both, Isa speaks very highly of you," I said politely, offering my hand to her father, the comfort and confidence I received from Isa grip enough to ground me.

He grunted, his gaze still distrustful, and attempted to break my hand with his crushing hold. I held eye-contact, somehow managing not to flinch until he was satisfied, releasing my now aching hand. I discreetly flexed it behind my back to get the blood running through it again while remaining nonchalant. He wasn't the first father to try and intimidate me, but I hoped that we could form a mutual respect over our common love of Isa. That was all I could ask the man whose daughter I was regularly having sex with, after all. Aiming any higher seemed a bit premature at this point.

"Oh, he's so handsome," Sue's somewhat shrill voice crowed as she pulled me into a hug. "Youse're taking good care of our Isabella?" she questioned, palming my cheek in what I could only describe as a motherly gesture.

"Of course, ma'am," I responded, feeling my cheeks warm.

"I'm not old enough to be called ma'am just yet. I may be a motha' of three, but I had them young, so call me Sue."

"Bella, darling, I'm so glad you came," gushed a voice from behind us. A woman with cropped dark blonde hair, wearing a loose coral pink jumpsuit with flared legs and a baggy cardigan that seemed to swamp her upper body, strode over, her arms full of shopping. She kissed both of Isa's cheeks, leaving lipstick in her wake.

"I told you I was coming," Isa reminded her.

"I know, but I felt some distress in your aura during our call. I don't want any nastiness to hang between us so we can move forward, cleansed and centered," she murmured, her words slow and measured, placing it somewhere between a therapist and someone who'd been smoking a little too much pot.

"That's great, Mom," Isa placated before changing the subject. "Why don't you meet my boyfriend?"

Her mother turned to me, her mouth lifting up into a wide smile as she pulled her oversized sunglasses up into her hair and gave me a once over.

"Edward, isn't it?" she questioned, a mischievous glint so much like Isa's in her eyes.

"Um, yeah, that's me," I said, holding out my hand for her to shake only to find myself engulfed in scent of perfume as she threw her arms around me. If there was anything I was learning about Isa's family, it was that they were an affectionate bunch, expect maybe her father.

"In this family we hug," she explained, confirming my thoughts. "In case it wasn't obvious, I'm Bella's mother, Renee. I want to thank you for getting us this reservation. I know Isa wasn't pleased that I sprang dinner on her this evening. Though, if she came to visit more often, maybe I wouldn't feel the need to check up on her," she said, giving Isa a pointed look.

Isa rolled her eyes. "If you moved into the twenty-first century I'd be able to contact you a lot more often."

Renee looked scandalized at the suggestion, pressing a hand to her chest dramatically. "You know all those technological things are full radiation and God knows what else. If I want to keep my body pure then I need to keep my living space as such. Phones are for emergencies only, and why would I need a computer when I can write letters and read books?"

"Because then your daughter could contact you more often without having to trek across half of the city?" Isa suggested dryly.

"Darling, I housed you in my uterus for eight and a half months then had a nine hour labor, and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. The least you could do is trek across the city to see your mother once in awhile."

Isa threw her hands up in defeat. "There really is no winning with you, is there?"

Renee's eyes widened, her expression quite mystified. "Winning? Darling, stop being so dramatic. This isn't a game. All I was saying was that it wouldn't hurt to stop by more often. I'm not getting any younger, you know."

She had already flitted off before Isa could form a reply, her attention having already found a new subject to latch onto. Renee seemed to be oblivious to the effect her words had on others and to just about everything around her. I hated to use the word self-absorbed, but it seemed quite fitting when it came to describing Isa's mother.

"Don't take it to heart, sis. You know how Renee gets," Jacob said, flinging an arm casually over Isa's shoulder as we started walking. He looked just as I remembered him, all tanned muscle and too white teeth.

Isa grimaced and pushed him off her. "God, when was the last time you showered?"

"Don't be hating, sis. This is the smell of man," he told her with a grin.

"No, that's the smell of dirty feet and body odor," she corrected.

"Edward, man, help me out here," he said, looking imploring in my direction.

I put my hands up in defense. "I'm staying out of this. A man's personal hygiene is his own business."

"Well, take it from someone of the opposite sex. Women love it when guys smell nice. No girl is going to want to get close to you when you smell like you've been rolling around in your dirty socks."

"She does have a point there. It's a real turn off to be with a guy who stinks. You probably won't even reach the bedroom," a girl around Isa's age commented offhandedly, looking somewhat bored. I could tell by her features that she was Sue's daughter, but I felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze as she eyed like a piece of meat.

"Keep your skanky eyes off my boyfriend, Leah" Isa said, shooing her away, though there was no bite in her tone.

Leah rolled her eyes and tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder before flipping Isa the bird. "Don't be jealous, Bella. Green isn't yaw color."

It was a bit of a low blow considering that Isa's dress was green, but Isa gave as good as she got. "At least my dress fits. You look like you've been shopping in the sluts department again. You realize that a dress is supposed to cover your butt and your tits, right?"

"Oh, burn!" a new voice chimed in.

"Shut up, Seth," Leah and Isa said at the same time before walking on ahead together.

"Don't bother trying to understand that particular relationship," Seth said, unfazed by his sister's attitude. "They get off on insulting each other. I think they hate each other for the fun of it."

"No doubt," Jacob grumbled. "They've been like this for as long as I can remember. The only time they get along is when they are ganging up on someone else, and guess who that poor fucker usually ends up being?"

Seth snickered. "You loved dressing up in their clothes and wearing mom's makeup. You made such a cute girl."

Jacob shoved him and they started fighting playfully until we got to the restaurant. We were seated quickly and the menus were doled out before we ordered a few bottles of wine to start us off.

I was content, in the beginning, to sit back and watch them all interact with each other. I learned that Seth and Leah were twins, but that they were as different as night and day. Where Seth was happy go lucky and funny, Leah was sullen and had a bored expression for most of the meal unless she was eye-fucking me. Jacob had somehow landed somewhere in between the two, being both serious and a clown at the same time. It was both intriguing and mystifying to watch them, acting like one big family despite the obvious dysfunction of their coming together.

"What do you do for a living, Edward?" Renee asked once we'd received our orders and taken the time to eat a little, her eyes staring intently in my direction.

"I'm an artist," I answered, knowing that my answer would cause mixed reactions. I wasn't too far off if Charlie's, Isa's father, scoff was anything to go by.

"That's not something you can make a living out of. How do you expect to support yourself, let alone anyone else with that kind of hobby?" he grumbled.

"Dad!" Isa exclaimed indignantly. "Edward does really well with his art. He sold a piece just last month for five thousand dollars."

He still didn't seem all that impressed, and I jumped at the chance to show him that I was serious about my art and my future. "With all due respect, sir, I don't sell my art for the money. My parents left me a sizable fortune when they died, and I live off that. My art is an expression of myself or others portrayed through pictures. I do well, and I sell a good number of paintings, but I pursue my art for the enjoyment it brings me and those that come into contact with it."

"Oh, that's so poetic," Renee murmured, clasping her hands in front of her. "Stop being such a sour grape, Charlie, and realize our little girl is happy. They're both free spirits meant to flourish outside the lines." Her voice was breathy as she spoke and the copious number of bangles on her wrist jangled as she raised her hands, a far off expression on her face.

"What I want to know is when youse're gonna settle down and make me a grandmotha'," Sue voiced, waving her fork in Isa's direction. "I was visiting Renata—ya know the girl that you used ta be tight wit'—and she's popped out a few little ones. So cute."

"Renata should have kept her legs closed. Then she wouldn't be in the mess she's in now; living with a deadbeat, locked away in their apartment," Isa responded apathetically, taking a sip of her wine.

"Hey, wha' chu mouth!" Sue admonished.

Isa shrugged. "I'd rather be where I am now, with a good career doing what I love than tied to my kitchen sink with children running around my ankles. Contrary to what you believe, I don't need children to make me happy."

I had known from the start that Isa had little to no interest in having children, but she had never been so outspoken about it with me. She had a life plan laid out before her and children had never been a part of it. She wanted to travel the world and live her life to the fullest, and I knew that she didn't want to be tied down to someone so irrevocably. Though it didn't rear its head too often, Isa contained an untamable spirit that relished in its freedom. To her, children would suffocate that spirit, and she wasn't willing to put anyone through what she'd gone through with her parents.

"What about you, Edward? Do you have as strong an opinion as Bella about children?" Renee asked curiously, folding her hands beneath her chin. All eyes turned to me, and I shifted uncomfortably beneath their gazes. I wasn't worried about my views clashing with Isa's because I was in about as much of a rush to settle down as she was, but I doubted her parents wanted to hear that. Kids had never been important to me since, like Isa, I enjoyed my independence and freedom. That didn't mean that one day I wouldn't get married and maybe get a dog, but kids weren't really in the cards for me.

"Uhmm, having kids has never really interested me," I said bluntly. "Don't get me wrong, I like kids, but I'm happy just to play the role of Uncle when my brother's have children."

As I had anticipated, my answer hadn't been the one they had been looking for, but the feel of Isa's hand on my thigh, squeezing softly in thanks made their disapproval worth it. As far as I was concerned, they shouldn't have been putting so much pressure on her to procreate anyway. It was her choice whether or not she decided to have kids, and it wasn't like they didn't have three other kids to badger.

The conversation tapered off after the awkward silence that had followed my confession, and I focused my attention on my meal. Once I was done, I helped Isa finish off hers since she claimed she wasn't very hungry, but that had more to do with the fact that she'd been helping herself to my food before I finished it. I rested one of my arms across the back of her chair, tracing random patterns along her bare shoulder and snuck a glance at my watch on my other hand.

"Got somewhere to be?" Charlie asked, startling me with his question. He eyed me with the same suspicion he had been regarding me with all throughout the meal-like he was expecting me spring from my chair and hold Isa at gunpoint or something. He had intimidated me at first, that I couldn't deny, but now I could easily shrug off his attitude without even a second thought.

"Yes," I answered, quirking a brow and silently asking him if that was the answer he was looking for. He leveled his stare, and we held eye-contact for a long moment until Isa jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension between us.

"One of Edward's friends has just gotten into the country, and we're going to meet him for drinks tonight," she explained.

"But, darling, what about us? I thought we could catch up a little more while I'm in town," Renee argued, looking offended at the thought that her daughter might have other plans.

"Well, if you'd called ahead then maybe I could have changed my plans, but, unfortunately, you didn't, and I could really use some hard liquor after this dinner."

"Oh! Ya hear that, ma. We've driven her to the drink," Jacob said with a snicker.

Sue sucked her teeth. "Wha' chu guys doin', trying to put me in an early grave?" she asked with a huff. "First, no kids then a drinking problem? I dunno what to do with youse?"

"I don't have a drinking problem," Isa argued, throwing her hand up in the air in disbelief. "And I don't expect any of you to do anything with me. It's my life, and I will live how I choose. You can't just bounce into my life at your convenience and act like you get a say in what I do or who I do it with. You wanna know why I don't visit often? It's because I'd rather be at home fucking my boyfriend than stuck with you guys, listening to how you disapprove of every aspect of my life."

With that she pushed back from the table and stood up, storming out of the restaurant. I moved quickly to follow her, avoiding what I could only describe as a murderous glare from Charlie. "I'd say it's been lovely, but..." I trailed off and shrugged, grabbing Isa's jacket and bag as I made a retreat.

I found her pacing outside, muttering underneath her breath, a frown marring her face. "Baby," I murmured, approaching her cautiously. She whirled around to face me, a sad look of resignation on her face.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, covering her face with her palms. "I know I shouldn't let them get to me, but, God, they are so frustrating. I swear, every time I see them, its like that angry teenager that never really died rears its head, and I just want to scream and shout at them."

"Baby," I repeated, wrapping my arms around her body so that her side rested against my chest. She dropped her head against my shoulder, sniffling a little.

"I'm sorry. I really wanted tonight to be good. I mean, usually they are bearable, but recently...I don't know. I guess I'm seeing the cracks in my dysfunctional relationship with them. Please, don't think I'm with you because of how my family is. I don't think I could bear it if you looked at me differently."

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?" I asked, perplexed.

She sighed and peeked up at me solemnly. "I don't want you to think I'm with you like I am because I have daddy issues," she clarified, her cheeks flushing.

It took me a moment to fully understand what she was saying, and my first reaction was to laugh, which she didn't take too well. She tried to get out of my arms, but I held onto her tighter. "Baby, calm down. I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing at the fact that there really are very few people out there who don't have daddy issues, and I know you well enough to understand where your fetish originated from. But really, even I have daddy issues."

She looked dubious. "Really?"

I nodded. "Oh, you have no idea. I had a good dad, a great one really, but his standards were high. He expected great things from all his kids, so when I didn't want to follow in my brother's footsteps and work at the company, he expected me to become a doctor or a lawyer or something like that. So, you can imagine his reaction when he found out that I wanted to become an artist. I think it was hard for both of us because he was so disappointed, yet he tried to support my decision, and I was working so hard to prove to him that I wasn't going through some sort of rebellious phase. It's where my infallible complex came from; never wanting to show weakness where my art was concerned, and it evolved from there. My point is, whether we like it or not, our parents shape who we end up becoming. Maybe we take the bad or we take the good, but in the end, they leave a piece of themselves in us. I am who I am because of my parents, and you're who you are because of yours, but baby, I wouldn't want you any other way."

"How do you always know what to say?" she asked softly.

I laughed softly. "I don't. I just try and to be honest and hope for the best. Now, do we want to go home where I'll run you a nice hot bath or do we wanna go and meet the rest down on Broadway for drinks?"

She mulled over my suggestions for a moment before answering. "How about we go for an hour or so and then we can go back to mine and you can run me that bath?"

"Sounds good," I told her, helping her into her jacket as she shivered. "Should we say goodbye to your family properly or shall we leave them with our grand exit?"

"Would I be a terrible person if I just left them there?" she asked, kind of squinting in thought.

"Nope."

"Then, let's go."

**AN: I know what you're thinking...that wasn't how I imagined Edward's first meeting with her parents to end up either, but we did find out what was wrong with Carlisle, didn't we? Leave me some love!**

**Side note: I am writing an outtake from Isa's point of view which will be posted as a separate story when completed. So, put me on author alert if you want to know a little of what's going through her mind.**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: So will Isa want to do something like this again when it isn't for punishment?**

**A: That's a very good question. I do feel like they will revisit puppy play at a later date, maybe even at a party or something. It ticked off a lot of things Isa wanted to try such as forced nudity, slight humiliation, and full submission, so I'm pretty confident that she'll push to try it again in a more pleasurable setting.**

**Q: Are you going to post any more pics to go along with chapters?**

**A: Ha! I will indeed. Check out my facebook group A Pale Fire. That's where I post pictures and discuss my writing. It's like a book club. I even have readers who match pictures with chapter exerpt.**

**Q: Will Edward go over his scene with Garrett?**

**A: I've written an outtake from Isa's point of view with her thoughts on the punishment, but I can't post it until after you read chapter 20 since it follows after that.**

**Q: I'm curious about Edward's family's involvement in his life. Will we get to see what Edward's brothers think of Isa and his relationship (what they know of it) in the future?**

**A: Well, I have big plans for Emmett, so there will be more interaction and Edward will get closer with him in a way that will reveal certain things about his relationship with Isa. Eleazar was the one who helped Edward after the fall out on how to fix things and open himself up more, They are all pretty close, and we'll get a glimpse of them next chapter.**

**Q: At what time you do expect these two to begin living a more 24/7 realationship. I realize that Edward stated that they would experience all of Edwards personnas-the Daddy, the Dom, and the BF, but I was assuming that the BF would only come into play when the two of them mingled with people who do not either live or to some degree participate in the lifestyle.**

**A: This is something that they'll have to discuss at some point. I don't like to give false information, but I'm guessing in two chapters or so.**

**Q: At what time do you expect these two to begin living with each other?**

**A: This may play in the previous question and answer. It's something that my characters have to be willing to discuss with me.**

**Q: You mentioned that his brother was aware that he and Isa had had difficulties and had had a two-week hiatus from one another, but at some point do you expect Edward to be wholly truthful with his brother? I guess what I am asking is whether at some juncture will Edward share with his brother and sister-in-law the true nature of his and Isa's chosen lifestyle.**

**A: Well, I intend for Edward to tell Emmett, but I haven't decided whether he should tell Eleazar and Carmen.**

**Q: Do you expect that Edward and Isa will begin to interact more fully with the Daddy/Dom, little/sub community at large?**

**A: I do indeed. I know things have been going a little slow with the whole punishment and the situation beforehand, but I'm hoping to start moving this quicker after the next chapter.**

**Q: Do you intend to include more outings, activities, meetings with between Isa and Edward and Kate and Garrett?**

**A: Definitely. Kate and Garrett have become rather pivotal characters in this fic, and I expect to see a lot more of them.**

**Q: Will we be seeing a trip to Madame Rosa's for both Edward and Bella together?**

**A: I do hope and intend to write a scene as such. When though, is the real question.**

**Q: Is Edward planning on installing a playroom in his apartment, or do you intend for Edward to simply retrofit his current home to accommodate their times that they set aside for playtime?**

**A: The latter. I don't intend for these two to have a playroom in the strict sense of the word (i.e. there won't be a St. Andrews attached to the wall or anything like that), but I will create a space for them that is more playtime friendly.**

**Q: When will we see Edward paint Isabella?**

**A: Soon. Very soon, if I have anything to say about it.**

**Q: Will Edward review the reason behind the humiliation Isa experienced as she was made to crawl and the melding of their actions as he lead her blindfolded around the apartment?**

**A: I've written an outtake from Isa's pov that reviews some of what she felt, and we'll discover that Edward's reasons were twofold, the underlying reason being to show Isa that even when she can't see him, he's still there, guiding her. The main reason was to test her and force her attention solely on him until nothing else registered or mattered.**

**Q:Will Isa continue to try and manipulate Edward even though she was caught? Is**

**that a normal little/Daddy struggle?**

**A: There will be times when Isa will try and bend Edward into the direction she wants it to be, so she can get out of orders or bend the rules. Its normal in pretty much all relationships to have a power struggle at times, but littles are known to be bratty and throw tantrums in an effort to get their way. Edward simply has to reaffirm his dominance over her and put her in her place. There are times when subs don't even realize that they are trying to manipulate their Doms, which is why they need a constant, steady, firm hand to guide them.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 20**

**AN: Hey! For those of you who didn't know, I just got back from a last minute ten day trip to America for my brother's wedding, which is why this chapter is so late. Sorry about that. Thanks to torisurfergirl and darcysmom for beta'ing.**

**WARNING: I've been told this chapter needs a wet panty warning, so here you go.**

**Playlist:**

**Love, Sex, and Magic by Ciara ft. Justin Timberlake**

**I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift**

**Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance**

**Your Body by Christina Aguilera**

**Telephone by Lady Gaga ft. Beyonce**

The bass pulsed, humming through the floor and walls in the club. After our impromptu exit from dinner with her family, we met up with my friends earlier than planned. They had secured a corner of the VIP lounge on the second floor, overlooking the dance floor.

"It's been way too long," Liam commented, drawing my eyes away from the view below us, knowing that Isa was in there somewhere. She'd been somewhat subdued and quiet on the journey over, but she'd perked up when she met Liam, the two of them hitting it off right of the bat. I'd been thankful that Carmen had noticed that Isa wasn't acting quite herself, ushering her and all the other girlfriends that had tagged along down to dance and let off some steam, while the rest of us were content to lounge on the low couches and drink.

"Much too long," I agreed. "Don't stay away so long next time."

He laughed lowly, extending one arm across the back of the couch, while taking a sip from his whiskey. "Aye, we don't have to worry about that anymore," he reminded me.

Liam had explained to us that the reason for his sudden move back to America was because he had left the church and was planning to go back to university to get a Ph.D in theology. He'd lost his passion for what he had once thought was his life's calling, and after a lot of prayer and deliberation, he changed his course.

I still hadn't quite wrapped my head around the fact that he was here after all the years we'd spent apart. He looked the same as he had before he had left, only a little older and a little wiser. Back when we were young, he'd constantly used his baby blue eyes and dimpled grin to get us out of scrapes and punishments, and looking closer at him, I could still see the mischief hiding behind his scruff and coiffed hair.

"It's strange to see you without your collar," I commented.

He reached up, touching the gap between his shirt where it had once sat, almost as though to check to see if it was there.

He looked a little wistful as one half of his mouth rose into a grin. "It's strange for me too, a definite adjustment, but I'm ready to move into the next chapter of my life. I devoted years to the Church, but I became stifled and suffocated by it. I needed more freedom than being a priest allowed me, and it led me to reevaluate my goals and my dreams. You, of all people, understand that all I've ever wanted was to teach and to guide people in the right direction, to help answer the questions that plague their minds, their hearts, even their souls. But the Church...the Church has changed. It isn't what it used to be, and I stopped feeling like I was making a difference. It was tradition that led people to go to Mass every Sunday, not the want of the Word, and I lost the drive to share."

"That really sucks man," Emmett mumbled around a mouthful of peanuts, and a few others grunted in agreement. "But think of it this way, you've got a whole load of new options waiting to be explored. I mean, you can finally get laid!"

"I'll drink to that. To getting laid," Marcus, a friend from our school days who now lived in New Hampshire, toasted.

Liam flushed in embarrassment but chuckled as he tipped his glass. "You always were an eternal optimist, Emmett, but I'm in no rush to get back into the dating pool. I'm not sure that I'd know what to do with a woman, even if I had one," he admitted.

"There's no shame in that," James, a lawyer and friend from our childhood, spoke up, his misty green eyes piercing. "I can hook you up with a girl, she's very nice, pretty, and has absolutely no qualms with taking the lead. It will help you get back in the saddle, so to speak."

"And how much will he have to pay for that?" Alistair quipped, getting a chuckle from all of us. It was no secret that James was a bit of a playboy, content to fuck anything with a hole to stick his dick, male or female.

"Laugh all you like, but hookers are high class these days. They call themselves call girls now, and let me tell you, they give you the whole experience, and you can take them out without being self-conscious about it."

I could see that Liam was getting increasingly more uncomfortable by the turn of the conversation, and I stepped in before things got out of hand.

"Oh, leave him alone guys. When the time's right, he'll find someone," I told them firmly.

Liam gave me a thankful smile for reigning them in, and jumped at the chance to steer the subject in another direction. "Speaking of waiting to find someone, tell me more about your girl. I didn't even know you'd started dating again."

I felt a little guilty that I had kept him out of the loop, but things had happened so quickly, and I'd lost track of a few things during that time. "We've been together almost six months now," I admitted. "She's...everything. I didn't think I'd ever really start dating again, but she awakened me, and from the first time I saw her I was smitten. She's a firecracker that likes to keep me on my toes, but she complements me as a person, and I don't know, I guess she makes me want to try and be better."

"Well, that's lovely and all. I'm sure her 'personality' is just great, but what's she like in bed?" James asked.

"I really don't think that's any of your business," I retorted with a telling smirk.

"Oh, don't be coy, Edward. It doesn't suit you," he scoffed, causing a chorus of chuckles to arise.

Thankfully, I was saved from answering his question when the woman in question came bouncing over, the spark back in her eyes and a sly grin on her lips. Isa settled down on the arm of the couch I was on, and my eyes dipped down to her legs, the way they were crossed forcing the fabric of her dress to rise to mid-thigh, showing the top of her stockings. I didn't have to look to know my friends were all ogling her legs and the slopes of her breasts that peeked out of the top of her strapless dress.

She tangled a hand through my hair, stroking it lightly. "Come dance with me?" she requested with a pout.

"Ummm," I muttered distractedly, wondering when she'd let her hair down, the messy waves giving her a windswept, wild look. She leaned forward, causing her hair to tumble down around her shoulders, creating a shield between us and the rest of my friends. She dug her blunt nails lightly into my scalp with one hand, while other snaked up my thigh to where my cock was waking up. The look she gave me was full of coy innocence as she rolled the plump flesh of her bottom lip back and forth between her teeth, the way she bent forward, giving me an excellent view down her dress.

"Please," she murmured, peeking up at me from beneath her lashes. I swear my cock twitched at her breathy plea, the little minx knowing exactly what she was doing by the triumphant grin she sported when I nodded, swallowing back the lust that was rising through my body.

"You boys don't mind if I borrow Edward, do you?" Isa asked, craning her neck to address them. There was a low murmur of agreement from them, their eyes transfixed on the way she moved, the smile she gifted them making them reciprocate it. From the first time they'd met her, my friends had been as enthralled with her as I was. There was just something about her that drew you in; the way her sexuality and femininity rose subtly through everything she did was captivating.

There was no denying that Isa was all woman, curvaceous in all the right places, yet she had definite intelligence and wit that made you want to go deeper than her outer appearance. Her personality was as beguiling as her looks, and she was a natural magnet. I thanked my lucky stars that she'd been single the day I'd approached her. I wasn't even sure she was aware how much her presence in my life had changed me since my eyes had glimpsed her across the street.

"Take him. He needs to loosen up anyway," James told her, and she tugged me up from my seat, leading me through the crowd and downstairs. I threw a sympathetic look at Liam just before she pulled me away, knowing that without me as a buffer they'd descend on him like wolves.

We descended into a sea of writhing, gyrating bodies. Isa turned to face me with a grin, her grip on my hand loosening before she dropped it altogether and disappeared into the crowd, letting it swallow her up.

My eyes searched furiously for her, the strobe and LED lights making it difficult, if not impossible, to find her. I was both amused and irritated by her game, a restlessness starting to prick at my skin. I hunted through the crowd, dodging drunken advances from scantily-clad women, my eyes catching glimpses of her hair or her dress before it disappeared again.

My irritation started to flare, the amusement I had once felt dwindling, yet my body reacted, arousal humming beneath the surface of my skin. My pulse quickened and my blood throbbed, surging through my veins and building in my groin, my cock swelling and growing in the confines of my pants.

I saw a hint of green and dark hair not far from me, and I advanced slowly, knowing deep in my gut without having to see her face that it was her. I didn't approach her, instead I stayed hidden, stalking and circling her from a distance, both confirming her identity and enjoying this part of the game she was playing since I now had the upper hand.

She was dancing, her hips undulated as they twisted and gyrated along with the music. Her eyes were closed and her head tipped back, allowing her to get lost in the music. Isa's hands made a slow path up her body, her movements sensuous. I wasn't the only person who had noticed her, the way she threaded her hand through her hair, lifting it up off her neck caused a visceral reaction in the men around her.

Men approached her, but she fielded their advances expertly, all the while acting like a fucking cock tease, showing them what they couldn't have. The monster, the animal in me, threw itself at the bars of the cage I contained it in, fighting to be freed, to sink my teeth into her throat and mark her as mine so the men that attempted to paw at her under the guise of asking for a dance would know that she was taken.

The words to describe how I was feeling eluded me, the ability to verbalise it escaping my clouded mind. It wasn't purely lust—it was more complex than that—it was a deeper, darker, more primal feeling that I had only allowed myself to feel a few times in my life, yet had never fully unleashed over a length of time.

She was oblivious to my presence, and my muscles coiled and tensed, ready to spring for an attack as another man approached her, his hand grazing her hip. I felt like a predator stalking his prey, my gaze fixed on her as I moved swiftly in her direction, an angry desire bubbling up in my throat. Just seeing another man touch her, trying to mold his body behind her as though he was welcome made me grind my teeth. Though the touch only lasted a moment, Isa easily twisting out of his grip and pushing him away with a shake of her head, it was enough to sear it permanently in my brain. Flushes of heat washed through me, the tension in the air electric as I closed the distance between us.

I glared at the guy who was still lingering, hoping to get Isa to change her mind. I tried to communicate that if he ever thought about touching my girl again, I would be forced to remove his hand from his fucking body, and he'd be eating through a straw for the rest of his life. He immediately backed off, putting his hands up in surrender, knowing a lost battle when he saw one.

My hands clasped her hips, my tight grip causing my nails to dig into her skin through her dress. I could feel the heat of her skin, the flesh beneath my fingers giving way with the right amount of pressure, molding to my touch. I wasn't gentle, in fact I felt incapable of treating her softly or delicately, every inch of my body was demanding and greedy.

Despite how I reacted to it, what was growing in me wasn't a desire to hurt or inflict pain, yet it sought more than dominance, subjugation or to be served. It wasn't satisfied with just a simple submission to my needs, it needed to consume her, wholly, and without pause for thought or question.

She gasped, her lips parting and her eyes shooting open as the world, which had slowed down during my hunt of her, sped up again. I pulled her roughly into me, making her back crash against my chest. Her instincts immediately kicked in, and she squirmed, rubbing her full ass against my hard cock as she attempted to escape my grip.

I groaned, my nose rooting through her hair until I reached her throat, her movements only serving to fuel the fire within me. "Unless you want me to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here in front of everyone, I'd stop fucking fighting me," I growled harshly.

She relaxed at the sound of my voice, lulled into a false sense of security, not realizing what she had aroused in me, the dark flames burning deep inside me. I was a black hole coveting the sun, craving to rip it to shreds, the unimaginable energy of that burning star being devoured by that endless hungry darkness that resided in me.

It far outreached the hunger of a man starved and denied any sort out of nourishment for days. The very word "consume" was a pale imitation of how I felt. What I felt was matched only on a scale reaching a cosmic level, but even then, it was a lacking description.

She was panting lightly, breathless, when she turned her face, her warm breath fanning over my face as she gazed up at me with hungry eyes. "Maybe...maybe I want you to."

My lips curled up into what could only be described as a sinister smirk at her words. "You really shouldn't have said that," I murmured back.

She shivered, but didn't falter as she continued to move against me, her body coaxing mine to follow. She snaked a hand behind her, skimming it over my shoulders and up the back of my neck. She threaded her fingers through my hair, fisting it tightly until I could feel the burn against my scalp.

I sucked in a harsh breath when her nails dug into my scalp, the dull pain mixed with the way she boldly gyrated back against me, rubbing and sliding against my body, lighting me up from the inside out. She dipped and twisted, and my body mirrored hers without question, no hesitation or stumbling between us.

I draped a hand across her waist, dragging my fingers over her hip and along her stomach before finding purchase on the opposite hip. My nose nuzzled against her throat, and my lips hovered over her skin, feeling the muscles flexing beneath my touch. She tipped her head to the side, exposing the pale column of her neck in an act of submission that did nothing but inflame the rage and passion that seethed beneath the surface of my body and mind.

I struggled to restrain myself when she shivered, her whole body trembling for a moment. The feel of her caged against my body, my tight grip forcing her to stay in place, combined with the way she squirmed, pushing her ass back against my swollen erection, had my body demanding to take her, to possess her.

I didn't want to just fuck her, what I felt held so much more than that, and in the end the closest word to describe was "more." No analogy could hold a candle to my feelings, yet the word "more" was as close I could come to explaining the deep craving and longing in me. It wasn't something that could ever be fully removed, temporarily sated maybe, but the dark lust would always be simmering beneath the surface wanting and needing more. Nothing, it seemed, was enough, yet still I craved more of it.

A quiet moan slipped past her parted lips when my mouth latched onto her throat, my teeth scraping against her skin and drawing it into my mouth. I cupped the side of her neck, my fingers flexing and digging into her flesh as I marked her. She gasped when I pulled back, spinning her around to face me, my hands slipping around to cup her ass so that I could grind my cock into her stomach.

I could see myself reflected in her dark chocolate eyes, my expression predatory in the flashing lights, the colors spinning and dancing over my pale skin only adding to the lurking darkness that was mirrored in her gaze. I ducked my head, skimming my lips along her jaw until I reached her ear. I rolled her lobe between my teeth, sucking on it and enveloping it in wet heat. She melted against me, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly as she panted, a low keen spilling from her lips.

"Fight me," I hissed in her ear, a secret thrill running through me at my words. Her breathing hitched, and she pulled back to look at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and her pupils dilated. My eyes broke contact from hers as her tongue flicked out, sliding over her plump lips before disappearing back into her mouth.

There was no confusion in her expression, the corners of her lips turning up into a teasing smirk and her gaze challenging me. "Only if you promise not to take it easy on me," she replied, peeking up at me from beneath her lashes. She twisted out of my grip, catching me off guard, and took a step back. I was certain she would have attempted another disappearing act if it weren't for the guy behind her—the same one who had touched her earlier—grabbing her by the hips. She stumbled back into him, not having anticipated being grabbed, and he took the opportunity to grind his cock against her. I didn't think, I just reacted, red burning across my vision as I pulled my fist back and rammed it in his face harder than I had initially intended to.

Flesh and bone gave way beneath the force of my hit, and he dropped like a rock, obviously having consumed more alcohol than was wise. Adrenaline was racing through my veins, humming through my body like a live wire as I crouched down, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his T-shirt so that our faces were level.

"Touch what's mine again, and I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life eating your meals through a fucking straw. You get me?"

He swallowed, nodding his head vigorously, looking like he was about to piss himself. He recoiled from me when I patted his cheek, the grin on my face evil before letting him drop back down onto the floor. "Good boy."

It was only then that I felt Isa tugging on my arm, trying to get my attention. It seemed that I'd drawn some attention, a few people milling around, watching curiously.

"Edward, let's go," Isa urged, helping me to my feet. I straightened my shirt, still glaring down at the guy on the floor before grabbing Isa by the wrist and leading her away from the scene. By this point, I had transcended from possessive to downright feral, the bars of cage keeping me contained bent and twisted, the monster freed and out on a rampage. I was single-minded in my goal, ignoring Isa's protests as I dragged her toward the back of the club.

The music started to fade as I led us back past the bathrooms and down a hallway, the sound of Isa's heels clicking rapidly against the ground echoing. I could hear her ragged breathing as she struggled to keep up with me, my strides long and quick as I searched for an exit.

"Edward, slow down. You're hurting me," she complained as I pulled us through the emergency exit and out into the dark, dirty alley behind the club. I released my tight hold on her, the fresh air calming me slightly, but not enough to keep me from herding Isa back against the far wall, trapping her between my body and the wall. They way she trembled, little shivers vibrating through her body was intoxicating. I looked from side to side, checking to make sure we were alone back here. It was dark, shadows playing across the narrow passage, but still exposed. Anyone could walk up the alley from the street or come through the door we had just exited and catch us doing God knows what, yet that knowledge only heightened the excitement of the situation.

The sound of traffic in the background—the roar of engines and the faint sound of a siren—filled the silence as we stood panting, our gazes locked. I unbuckled my belt, sliding it through the loops until it was freed. I could see fear lurking in the back of her gaze, yet they pleaded for me, silently begging for me not to stop.

I made a twirling motion with my finger, silently ordering her to turn around. She hesitated, and I easily manhandled her, pulling her slightly forward before turning her around. I pressed her up against the brick, leaning my weight against her back as I grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back and winding my belt around them. Once she realized what I was doing, she struggled, trying to free herself, knowing that losing her hands and arms gave me much more control over her movements. I twisted her body back round to face me when I was done, grabbing her jaw and forcing my mouth on hers. There was nothing soft about the kiss, the harsh crush of my mouth combined with the way she bit and nipped at my lips aroused me further. She gave as good as she got, purposefully pushing my buttons and enticing the monster to the surface.

I felt agitated, my control frayed and broken, the dark flame burning deeply and completely, leaving nothing behind but a crumpled heap of raw emotion and panting greed. I couldn't think straight, my whole body trembling with unresolved tension, and my lust rocketing higher than ever before.

"On your knees," I demanded roughly, tearing my mouth from hers. Isa glanced down at the ground, the asphalt abrasive and rough, the material of her stockings not thick enough to protect her knees.

"On your knees now," I growled out, winding my hand through the messy waves of her hair and maneuvering her head down until she complied, bending her knees until she was forced to drop down onto the ground in front of me.

I groaned as I worked my zipper down over my cock, shoving my pants and boxers down over my ass. I pumped my cock a few times, my lips falling slack and my eyes drifting partially shut at the pleasure I received from my touch. I yanked her head forward, reveling in the sound of her whimper as I slapped my cock against her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered shut, a shiver wracking through her body at the feel of my hot, hard flesh against her skin. Her lips parted slightly when I guided my cock to her mouth, dragging the tip along her cheeks before tracing the contours of her lips with it, painting her skin with my pre-cum.

"Open your mouth," I commanded, watching her mouth open wide for me. She barely had the time to blink before her mouth was full of my cock, her nose buried in my pubic hair while she choked. Her throat convulsed and tightened around me, squeezing my cock for a few seconds before I backed up, allowing her the room to breathe. The feel of her lips wrapped tightly around my cock, the wet heat and suction making me almost lose my mind in pleasure.

"Breathe through your nose," I instructed gruffly before shoving her head back down, forcing her to take my cock all the way into her mouth again. Tears sprang in her eyes, and she struggled to follow my instruction, the brick wall behind her head making it impossible for her to move away.

"You look so good gagging around my cock, Princess," I grunted as I drew my hips back. She looked up at me from beneath her lashes, her eyes wet and mascara running down her cheeks. She breathed harshly through her nose, squirming and wincing as her knees rubbed against the ground.

I guided her head up and down my cock as I rocked my hips, my thrusts swift and deep. There was excitement and arousal hidden in her gaze when she looked at me, her makeup smeared across her face and her cheeks hollowed. We both knew that if she really wanted, she could free herself or even safeword, but I was certain that beneath her dress lay a pair of ruined panties and a needy, dripping pussy.

I caught her off guard, my thrust rougher than I had intended, causing her to gag again. I let out a strained chuckle at the scowl she sent my way as I backed up, leaving her mouth altogether. "Sorry, I slipped."

She gave me a disbelieving look, swiping her tongue around her mouth in an effort to get rid of some of the saliva dripping down her chin. I was aroused to the point of pain, but I could tell by the way she bared her teeth at me when I moved to make her take my cock again, daring me to have another go, that she wasn't planning on making it easy on me.

I didn't try and coax her to open her mouth this time, instead, I used my free hand to clasp her jaw, tipping her head back slightly when I pressed my fingers into her muscles until her mouth popped open. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together, clearly getting off on the push and pull of dominance between us as I pushed in between her lips. She gave a kittenish growl and grazed her teeth along just hard enough to allow me to feel a fissure of pain. I groaned, loving that the fight hadn't gone out of her, and continued thrusting.

I let up a little this time, fucking her mouth with less ferocity, guiding her head up and down with one hand while the other pressed against the wall. I tipped my head back, my breathing ragged as I swallowed back my moans. The pleasure of her mouth had me close within minutes, yet I couldn't seem to finish.

I cursed, knowing that I wouldn't find true satisfaction in having her suck me off, not with the monster calling for more. The restlessness lurking inside me flared, unsatisfied. It demanded that I possess her so completely that she would be taken beyond thought and sense. It drove me to crawl deep inside her, to become a part of her through both words and action.

She looked surprised and mildly confused when I pulled out of her mouth, the smears of lipstick around her mouth and the tracks of mascara running down her cheeks making her even more beautiful in that moment. She was a fallen angel forced to her knees in an effort to please and satisfy my basest instincts, and I loved her for submitting and succumbing to me.

Her confusion became more prominent as I pulled her up to her feet and reached behind her to unbuckle my belt from her wrists. She worked her jaw, loosening her tight muscles which had been stretched around my cock. My movements were impatient once I'd freed her arms, pressing her body roughly back against the wall while pulling her up my body by the back of her thighs. Her legs automatically wrapped around me, and I yanked her dress up around her waist, shifting our bodies until they were flush against each other.

"If you are wet, I am going to fuck you for your pleasure. If you are not, I am going to fuck you for my pleasure," I hissed in her ear, smirking at the shudder my words caused. My threat had been empty, already knowing that she was dripping even before I grabbed each side of her panties and ripped them clean off her body to find her pussy slick and swollen.

"Oh God," she whimpered, her blunt nails digging hard into my skin, one practically ripped my hair from my scalp, while the other attempted to draw blood from the back of my neck.

I thrust two fingers inside her, pumping them roughly, while my thumb played with her clit. "Do you like that?" I questioned.

She swallowed tightly, arching her back and thrusting her chest out toward me as I slammed my fingers in and out of her. "Oh, God, oh Fuck. Don't stop!" she mumbled incoherently.

I chuckled manically. "This is only the beginning, Princess. By the time I'm done with you there will be nothing left of either of us. No gap, no spaces, no line or distinction between us, but that's what you wanted, isn't it?" I growled. "That's why you pushed me."

"Yes!" she practically sobbed, so close to falling over the edge. I reached up, yanking the top of her dress and her bra down until her breasts spilled out. She went crazy, moaning and rambling incoherently when my mouth descended onto her breasts, nipping and sucking her nipples. Her pussy tightened around my fingers, her walls fluttering as she came, a wave of wetness coating my fingers. She trembled and shook, slumping against me with a sigh, while I retracted my hand, offering my wet fingers to her. She lapped and slurped at my fingers, cleaning them thoroughly as I lined my cock up with her pussy and thrust swiftly inside her to the hilt.

The force of my thrust slammed her back against the wall, barely stopping her head from hitting it. She clung to me desperately, my grip on her hips helping her keep up with the hard, frantic pace I was using. She met me thrust for thrust, the feel of her pussy clenching and wrapping around my cock in a heavenly vice. I barely registered the clatter of one of her shoes falling off and hitting the ground as she jerked against me, her mouth latching onto my throat. I groaned at the pain when she sunk her teeth into me, her nails clawing at my back through my clothes.

I could feel the tension coil around my muscles as I took her with wild abandon, her cries and moans only serving to fuel my own lust. My blood felt as though it were on fire in my veins when I pounded into her, my pace hard and punishing. She quivered and strained as our skin slapped loudly against each other, the force of my harsh thrusts jolting her back against the wall each time, the harsh texture of the brick scratching at her skin.

Her body slipped down slightly as her legs lost purchase around my waist, making her sink further down on my cock. I wouldn't have been surprised if she could feel me in her fucking throat from the way I was spearing her on my cock, wanting her to feel nothing but me. Just the thought of that other man touching her was enough to have me thrusting as though a demon had possessed my body.

"Mine," I growled out, pulling her head from my neck and pushing it back against the wall, my hand curled around her throat. She gasped, her eyes flashing open to meet mine as my grip tightened, slowly cutting off her air supply. She clawed at my hand, trying to pull it from her throat as she trembled, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. I didn't think she was prepared for the orgasm that overtook her, her walls clamped abruptly around my cock as she stiffened for a moment before cumming.

She gushed more this time, her juices dripping down my balls and her thighs. I released her throat, allowing her to suck in some oxygen, while I continued fucking her, my pace slower, tempered yet still rough. I swiveled my hips, angled my thrusts to bring her the most pleasure.

"Oh God," she mewled. "No more."

She struggled against me, pressing her hands weakly against my chest. I gather her wrists in my hands and pulled them above her head, kissing a path up and down her throat. "Shhh, just feel me," I instructed.

I brought my free hand to her clit, drawing circles around it, the wet sounds of sex music to my ears. I could tell that she was struggling with the sensations, her pussy still sensitive from the two orgasms she'd just had.

"I'm gonna need you to cum for me again," I told her firmly.

Her eyes flickered open lazily, and she shook her head in the negative. "I can't," she whined pitifully, gasping and moaning as I twisted my hips, hitting her g-spot.

I removed my hand from where it had been drawing lazy circles around her clit and clasped her jaw in my hand, forcing her to look at me. "I wasn't asking," I grunted out through clenched teeth.

Any semblance of the woman who had sat at dinner with her family, hair perfectly coiffed and makeup carefully applied had been ripped away roughly along with her panties. Tears of frustration and need welled up in the corners of her eyes, her expression pained as she surrendered to my body. Her chest heaved, rising and falling unsteadily as she arched, pushing her chest out, a garbled moan escaping her.

This was how I wanted her; her body completely surrendered to me in both pain and pleasure. There was no aspect of her that I wasn't in control of, and I played her like a puppet, tugging on her strings and making her dance to my tune.

"Please," she pleaded, her body quivering almost as much as her voice. I shuddered, the word slinking down my spine and settling in my gut, unsure whether she was asking for more or for mercy. I was a live wire, my body hypersensitive to every brush of her skin against mine, and I loved every minute of it.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it? When you teased me until I snapped. You just wanted me to fuck you until you couldn't walk."

The cry that escaped her in response was wanton and full of yearning, her thighs tensing and her muscles tightening as I reached down between us to rub her clit. She mewled, her walls clamping down around me in reaction to my touch, and flexed her hips against my hand.

The atmosphere around us was humming, electric currents crackling in the air as we fused our bodies together over and over again, climbing higher toward our peak. My cock throbbed and my balls tightened, threatening to explode from the tight, wet pressure of her pussy. My breathing was heavy and loud in my own ears, my beating heart pumping out blood at an erratic speed, setting a fast pulse in my veins. I knew I couldn't hold on for much longer, and as much as she tried to deny the fact that I couldn't bleed another orgasm from her spent body, I could feel her constricting around me as she got closer to her release. She became more vocal, her moans and keens rising while I coaxed her body closer and closer to the edge, fueling her pleasure to the point that she was incoherent.

"You want it, don't you? You want to cum once more for me. Let me feel it, baby, let me feel you cum around my cock."

A groan tore its way through my throat as her walls unexpectedly collapsed around me, her pussy attempting to milk me as it pulled my cock in deeper. Heat coiled in my gut, surging down to my balls and my hips faltered, my own orgasm crashing down on me, triggered by Isa's.

"Oh God, oh fuck!" she chanted as shudders rolled down her spine, her sweat-slicked skin glistening in the moonlight.

My eyes slammed shut, colors dancing behind my closed lids as I let go, crying out in both agony and relief. I came harder than I had ever come in my life, my muscles almost convulsing with the power of my release. My stomach and thighs burned from holding off for so long, my balls tight as they emptied in powerful spurts. I felt like someone had dunked me into a pool of water, all my senses evaporating for one long moment before I pushed myself back to the surface, desperate for air, my body tingling like someone had stuck a thousand needles into my skin.

I felt almost dizzy as I slumped against Isa, my head resting in the crook of her neck. I panted heavily, the spasms in my body slowly diminishing until I stilled. My mind was quiet, almost silent, and I basked in the moment, feeling her fingers tugging at my hair as her warm breath fanned out across my skin. She hummed lowly, shifting her hips until I slipped from her body with a hiss. I rested one hand behind her head, curled against the brick wall as I began to regain my senses.

I loosened my grip, slowly unwinding Isa from my body and lowered her to her feet. She whimpered as her legs gave way, almost collapsing in a heap on the ground before I caught her. She was still incoherent, her head lolling back against the wall as she struggled to recover her faculties.

I wet the sleeve of my shirt with saliva and used it to wipe the makeup smudged across her face before straightening her clothes so that she looked a bit more presentable, if you overlooked her torn, dirtied stockings and rumpled, dazed look. I propped her against the wall, stepping back for a moment to pull my pants back up, zipping and buttoning them before sliding my belt back through the loops.

Her panties were a lost cause, ripped and soiled on the ground, and I lowered my hand between our bodies, cupping her bare pussy in my hand. I could feel our mixed juices dripping onto my hand as I pressed myself flush against her, my lips hovering right by her ear.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to go inside and grab our things, while you go into the bathroom and make yourself look presentable. You're gonna leave this pussy, my pussy, dripping with my cum so that anyone who tries to sniff around what's mine will know that this particular pussy is taken and completely satisfied."

I nuzzled her throat, dragging the flat of my tongue along her skin, tasting sweat and sex on it. "God, you even taste like sex, baby. So fucking sinful," I mumbled before reluctantly pulling away.

She looked like something akin to Bambi taking his first steps as she clumsily stumbled forward. The fire exit we had come out through was still partially propped open, making it easy for us to sneak back inside. I left Isa in the queue outside the women's bathroom with a searing kiss before making my way back to the VIP section. I tucked my shirt back into my pants, trying to tame my hair a little as I approached them.

"Look who's back!" Alistair slurred, already three sheets to the wind. In fact, the only relatively sober people were Eleazar and Liam.

"Uhm yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "Isa isn't feeling too great—I think she ate something bad at dinner—and so I'm going to take her home." I tried to look apologetic, but I was still riding the high from my recent orgasm, so I most likely failed.

"I'm gonna to head out too," Liam announced, slapping his knees as he pushed himself up onto his feet. He looked downright eager to escape, probably having been waiting for an excuse to be freed from the rest of us.

"We should meet for lunch sometime this week and finish catching up," I suggested, collecting all of Isa's and my stuff.

"Sure, I'll be apartment hunting so that I can get out from beneath my ma's feet, but I don't have much else going on this week. So, just call me whenever you're free."

"Great. I'm sorry tonight was a bit of a bust," I told him, leaning in for a quick hug. "You know how this lot are."

He laughed. "Eh, it's cool. It was kinda nice to just to chill and joke around like old times. You don't know how lonely being a priest can be. People tend to treat yer different and hold back, but this lot have no filter or shame."

I chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, but you gotta love them."

"Someone has to," he replied, giving me a wink before moving to leave.

I turned to Eleazar who was nursing a Scotch. "You alright to make sure everyone gets home okay?" I asked.

He waved me off. "Don't worry. I got this. Go get your girl home."

I threw him a smile and headed down to where Isa was waiting for me by the bathrooms, glowing, yet exhausted. I helped her into her jacket, noting the red marks covering her back from being fucked against the wall, and scooped her up my arms. She giggled softly, looping her arms around my neck and tucking her head against my shoulder.

"You okay?" I asked softly, brushing my lips across her forehead and cradling her to my chest,

She nodded and yawned, a satisfied smile curling up her lips. "Never better. My pussy is sore and out of commision for a few days, but it was worth it."

I chuckled, ignoring the strange glances people were giving me for carrying Isa out of the club. "I would apologize but we both know I'm not in the least bit sorry. Plus, I do remember promising to run you a hot bath once we got home."

She hummed. "That does sound lovely. I hope you intend to join me. I don't think I'm in any condition to be left to my own devices."

"I thought that part was a given. I intend to pamper and spoil you until you fall asleep."

"Please, don't let me try and stop you. I really do get the best of both worlds, don't I? Fucked into oblivion then pampered like a princess. I could get used to this."

"If I have any say in the matter you will get used to it. You deserve this and more," I told her earnestly.

She seemed wholly satisfied with my answer, her smile widening slightly. "And that's why I love you, even if you can't remember when my birthday is."

I chuckled. "I never said I was perfect."

She patted my cheek. "Oh, I never doubted your imperfection," she said matter-of-factly. She squealed when I dug my fingers into her sides, squirming in my grip. "Stop! Stop! I never said it was a bad thing. I find it cute," she told me.

I snorted. "I just fucked you against the wall and gave you three orgasms, yet you're describing me as cute."

"Oh, I'm sorry, my rugged, handsome, strong, manly boyfriend," she mocked with a laugh.

"You know, tired people are generally a lot more quieter," I informed her as I flagged down a cab.

She slapped my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, resting her head back on my shoulder. "Focus on getting us home and not on my speech abilities."

"Yes, ma'am." I gave her a wink, to which she rolled her eyes at, but a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, belaying her exasperation.

"Just be grateful I love you," she mumbled, closing her eyes as I finally managed to get us a cab. I looked down at her for a moment, her peaceful expression making me smile.

"I am, baby, more than you know."

**AN: *Cough* well, that was new and exciting. Gotta love a possessive Edward. Leave me some love!**

**Important note: I've got some good news and bad news. The good news is that I have written an outtake from Isa's point of view which will be posted shortly as a separate story. So, put me on alert if you want to know a little of what's going through her mind. The bad news is that I will no longer be posting on a set schedule. I've entered a new season in my life where I realize I've been drifting from the plans I had for myself. I'm getting a better job and studying so that I can get into a university in America next year.**

**Q and A time!**

**Q:. Does Edward read everything on Isa's blog before she posts or is them something that is more like her journal that he just reads?**

**A: Its more like her journal. I'm sure that when she starts postings of herself he'll be more strict and police her posting.**

**Q: I wonder if her father is going to present a problem? He looked very strict and unyielding.**

**A: I subconsciously based Charlie on my own father, all strong silent, and a bit grumpy, but there's nothing to fear there. Even if he tries, Isa won't let him interfere.**

**Q:Will Isa's family interfere with her life a lot? Or will they let her live as she wants?**

**A: They're family, of course they'll try and into interfere, but Isa is stronger than to allow the to throw their weight around in her relationship. They will have to learn to respect her choices or take a hike.**

**Q: Do you really see Edward and Isa not having kids ever? I have no**

**issue with them not wanting kids. Just curious.**

**A: Truthfully? Sometimes I'll get a glimpse of what it would be like if Isa got pregnant, but with her childhood and upbringing, Isa is very jaded in terms of having children and Edward just isn't interested. So, the likeness of them having kids is slim to none.**

**Q:What other DD/lg activities do you see them trying out? I know you mentioned**

**going to a club.**

**A: Hmmm, tea parties and munches are on my list, maybe even sleepovers.**

**Q: Edward said Jane's stare made him uncomfortable in chapter 9, will we see her again? Is she going to have some affect on their relationship?**

**A: I have a murky picture of Jane coming back into the fic at some point, but I can't accurately estimate when.**

**Q: Is this a HEA?**

**A: Yes, it is. I only write HEA'S (Happy Ever Afters). I don't like sad endings.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 21**

**AN: Urgh, getting this chpater out was sooo hard. Between writer's block and my beta's being unable to get the correct documents back and forth between us, things have been hectic. But, anyway, thanks for all the reviews and thanks to Torisurfergirl for betaing.**

**Playlist:**

**Distance by Christina Perri ft. Jason Mraz**

**What If The Storm Ends by Snow Patrol**

**You Need Me, I Don't Need You by Ed Sheeran**

**Stay by Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko**

**Wonderwall cover by Ryan Adams**

**Love is Blindness by Jack White**

I kept my gaze fixed on the blank canvas in front of me from my perch on the stool , one foot hooked around one of the legs, while I pressed the balls of my other foot against the paint-stained cloth-covered floor. I tried to conjure the images that had woken me from sleep, but they evaded me, shrouded in a haze as they swam through my mind. I sighed, raking a hand through my hair in frustration, teetering back and forth on the idea of just going back to bed. I was just about to give in to that desire when I felt two warm hands graze my biceps as they snaked their way around my chest and caged my body. Isa nuzzled the curve of my neck, humming sleepily while her body moved to press flush against my back.

"I woke up and you were gone," she complained lightly, her voice husky and low. I reached back, tangling my fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her shoulder as I leaned my head back against it. Muscles I hadn't even realized had been tensed relaxed, the comfort and familiarity that I received by being in her presence soothing my frazzled nerves.

I had been surprised by how easily it had been for me to adjust to having Isa in my studio. She respected the fact that while I was in here, I was working and spent her time reading or on her Mac, either curled up on the couch or by my feet, her head resting on my thigh. She was for the most part, quiet, sometimes humming or singing quietly along with music connected through her headphones.

She came and went as she pleased, taking over Carlisle's task of making sure I ate and drank regularly. I wasn't always aware of her presence, my mind so completely immersed in my art that everyhing else was out of focus, my mind focusing solely on what was in front of me. She took it all in stride, patient in waiting for me to find my way back to the world.

"I got an idea for a painting, but I can't quite grasp hold of it right now," I explained, distracted by the way her lips caressed the edge of my jaw, sweeping over my rough, stubbled skin.

She hummed lowly, her blunt nails digging lightly into my chest as her tongue dragged along the curve of my ear. "Why don't I be your muse? I'm sure I can think of something that will inspire you," she purred, dragging her fingers down my waist, dipping them into my jeans. I grasped her wrist before she could reach my cock—which had perked up a little in her presence—pulling her hand out, her words having sparked an idea in my mind. I whirled around to face her, trapping her legs between my knees, somewhat amused by the pout she gave me. She was wrapped in the sheet from the bed, fisting it in one hand between her breasts to keep it up, her hair messy and her appearance rumpled. It was obvious that she had literally just rolled out of bed, her eyes not quite fully open yet as she met my gaze.

"I have a better idea," I told her, my fingers dancing over the curve of her hip, to which she responded with a yawn and quirked her brow.

"Better than sex?" she questioned disbelievingly.

I smirked. "You know nothing is as good as sex with you, baby, but I need a muse and since you offered yourself up for the job, I want you to pose for me."

She looked surprised by my suggestion, not having thought for a moment that I suggest having her in front of my easel. Painting her wasn't something that we had previously discussed, and I found myself anticipating the chance to have her posing for me. There was a light, amused laugh in her voice as she responded. "What, like this?"

I could see that she wasn't quite taking me seriously, and I cocked my head to the side, eying her in contemplation. "No," I responded, reaching for the sheet she was holding and tugged it from her grasp, dragging it down to her waist so that her breasts were bared. "Like this."

She seemed to catch onto the fact that I was serious about painting her, her eyes widening. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack," I replied, holding her gaze steadily. "Think of it as a step toward me feeling more comfortable with you posting pictures of yourself onto the internet."

She dug her teeth into the flesh of her plump bottom lip, nibbling on it while she thought through my idea. "Where do you want me?" she finally asked, causing me to grin triumphantly.

"Just lying across the couch is fine," I told her. standing to move my easel into the correct position. She did as instructed, letting the sheets tangle between her thighs, giving me teasing glimpses of her creamy, toned legs. She curled her arm beneath her head, resting it on the arm of the couch, and squirmed, shifting her body until she found a comfortable position.

"Are you cold? I can turn up the heating," I told her as I arranged my supplies appropriately, excited to paint such an interesting subject. I could already imagine her as a bright watercolor, splashed across my canvas, no lines holding her in place.

"Maybe a little since you insist on me flashing my tits," she commented, curling her legs and bringing her knees up higher. I was loathe to tear my gaze from her body for even a second as I turned to adjust the temperature before sitting back down on my stool across from her.

"I'm going to do a rough outline of you first in pencil so that you'll have more freedom to move and shift when I start to paint," I informed her. My gaze was calculating as I regarded her body, not as her boyfriend, but as an artist trying to capture her in the essence of her form. I sucked my teeth, my eyes squinting and my brows furrowing before abruptly standing and moving over to her. She followed my movements curiously with her eyes, keeping her position as I rearranged her hair to fall down low over her forehead, skimming across the corner of her eye before being tucked behind her shoulder and out of the way.

Her nipples had started to constrict, swelling into tight buds, and I reached for them, rolling and plucking them lightly until they were completely hard. My actions had caused a light flush to color her skin and her eyelids to droop, and I rushed back to my easel to capture her as she was.

My pencil flew across the page, only giving detail only where it was strictly needed, keeping the outline simple. I had never drawn someone who I knew so intimately, my pencil tracing the lines of her curves that, not but a few hours before had caressed and worshipped with both my mouth and my tongue.

It didn't take me long to complete the outline since held no details, and I sat back, comparing the outline to the live subject, adjusting my drawing until I was satisfied. "You can move around a little more now," I told her distractedly, my focus on arranging my paints and water before me. "I feel as though I should warn you that this may take a couple of hours, so as long as you keep your position you can sleep or I can put some music on, okay?"

I glanced up at her to make sure she had heard me, and she nodded, releasing another yawn before snuggling a little deeper against the couch.

Once everything was organized, I eagerly took up my brush, dabbing certain areas with water first before dipping it into the paint. Isa was a good subject, moving minimally and content to stay silent. It was one of the things I truly loved about our relationship, our ability to sit in comfortable silence without feeling the need to fill it with words. The quiet was never empty between us, instead it was full of silent feelings and emotions that made you feel at ease.

There was a certain intensity in my gaze as my eyes darted back and forth between Isa and my canvas intensely, trying to capture the way the lighting shadowed her body, coaxing her features out from the stark background.

I took my time, my concentration staying firmly on my work, never wavering or faltering in my task. Bursts of color started to emerge, my thoughts and my feelings spilling out before me, twisting and combining with the arch of her neck and the depth of her eyes. This wasn't solely a representation of the Isa that lay before me, but also a slightly abstract representation of how I saw her in my mind's eye.

I sought to bring life and soul to my painting, even to the parts that were obscured and hidden in a wash of bright colors and drips, each one placed with precision. I had always favored a contemporary style for my art, though I dabbled in some abstract art forms, mostly using ink and watercolors with the odd oil pastel here and there.

I was so engrossed, my wrist spiraling and dancing across the canvas, that it took me awhile to notice that Isa had fallen asleep in her pose. Her expression was calm and serene, the shadow of her lashes across her cheeks curling delicately. My lip twitched up slightly in amusement, and I shifted a little closer, my paintbrush balanced between my teeth as I moved the stool beneath me.

I found the movements of my hand, the swift yet gentle rotation of my wrist, both soothing and hypnotizing. I sunk into my mind, the familiar cloud wrapping around me, blocking out everything beyond my canvas. I could see Isa beginning to emerge, the subtle touches of my brush coaxing her into existence, capturing the light flush of her cheeks and the ever present sparkle in her eyes. Her habit of biting her lip had been immortalized, the flash of her pearly whites sinking into the corner of her plump bottom lip forever illustrated on paper.

The sun rose steadily in the horizon, peeking up over the buildings and filling my studio with light. I was orchestrating the finishing touches of the painting when Isa stirred, the harsh glare of the sun hitting her face. She wrinkled her nose and her lips slipped into a pout as her eyes slowly blinked open, squinting. It took a moment for her to wake up and realize where she was and why, her gaze flickering over to me.

"You done?" she questioned, her voice thick with sleep.

I dipped my brush into the small pot of water which had turned a watery grey, swishing it in the water to clean off the paint. "Just about. Nothing I can't do some other time," I told her.

She hummed sleepily, tugging the sheet up her body, covering her shoulder with it as she continued to watch me from beneath heavy-lidded eyes. She rolled her bottom lip back and forth between her teeth, allowing herself the time to wake up properly. I turned my gaze back to my work, sitting back slightly, cocking my head in an effort to see the picture from a different perspective. I've heard it been said that an artist was his own worst critic, and I couldn't help agree with that since I knew that though the picture looked finished, I would add and edit it until I felt that it was the best it could be.

"Edward?" Isa called softly, and I snapped my head in her direction, one hand rubbing the back of my neck where an ache was starting to form from sitting hunched in the same position for so long.

"Hmmm?" I mumbled, raising an eyebrow to show that she had my attention. I couldn't quite decipher her expression; it crossed somewhere between nervous and determined.

"Can we talk about something?" she asked almost timidly.

I sat back, wiping my hands along my jean-clad thighs, smearing paint and water on them "Sure. What's up?"

She released a long, deep breath, her eyes dropping from mine as she twirled her hair around her fingers. "I've been meaning to bring it up for a while now, but I guess I've been too...afraid?"

I nodded when her eyes darted back up to mine briefly, silently encouraging her to continue despite her obvious hesitancy.

"We've come a long way from where we were in the beginning, both in the vanilla and kinky sides of our relationship. We've been growing steadily in all aspects of our dynamic, and I feel that my personality has evolved to the point where I feel secure in the knowledge and strength of your domination and character, and I'm ready for more. I want you to be my Daddy twenty-four seven," she stated, gaining confidence steadily as she laid out her feelings.

I wasn't as surprised as I felt I should have been since her request had come out left field, but I guessed I had been more in tune with Isa than I had consciously been aware of. I had noticed recently that she had become more confident in her role, settling into being little much more easily and freely. She had taken to spending more time little than not, but I had not analyzed her behavior with more than a passing curiosity, taking her newfound comfort to show that she was finding a steady balance within herself over both halves of her personality.

I rubbed my jaw, feeling prick of my scruff against my hand as I worked out how to respond. The silence was heavy between us, and I knew that while her expression gave little away, she was internally freaking out. We were balancing on the tip of a knife, the conversation having the chance of going either way, depending on my answer.

"Okay," I finally murmured, bracing my hands against my thighs. "I guess I kind of saw this coming. With everything that's happened recently, I can understand why you want something more...intense between us, but I'm not sure that right now is the greatest time to embark on a twenty-four seven Daddy/little relationship. For one, I wouldn't feel comfortable taking on that kind of commitment if we weren't living together, and two, we both have some busy months ahead of us. I'm preparing for a showcase, which means I'm not going to be around as much as I have been recently, and I know practice will be picking up soon with orchestra for you. Are you truly prepared for me to actively control every aspect of your life when things are already going to be hectic? It's a huge step with a lot of responsibility tied into it, one that can't be taken lightly, and while I'm not saying no, I'm saying this is something that we need to really think through and be on the same page about before we truly make the commitment."

She pushed herself up until she was sitting with her legs tucked beneath her, the thin sheet clutched against her body as though it would protect her from the vulnerability that was radiating from her. "I know it's a lot, but there's this feeling in my gut—this hunger inside of me that you've continually fed—that cries out for the complete absence of control. I've done my research. I've talked to Kate all about it, and I know what I'm getting into. I know it'll be hard—Kate didn't sugarcoat anything for me—and I know it'll take a lot of work and effort to get us up and running. Please don't think that I would come to you with something like this unless I was really serious. This isn't a whim or just an idea that's popped randomly into my head. I know what I want, and I know you can give that to me. All I've ever wanted for as long as I can remember is the intimacy, affection and assurance you've given me from the start.

"Both my parents had very different ideals concerning how to raise a child. My father was strict, and my mother was more free thinking in her approach, and it created an uneven ground for me. There was no balance between the two, and in the months we've been together, you've strived to create a stable environment with guidelines and rules that supports my needs, one that makes me feel safe and secure. I need more than just being a little now and then. I want to be able to be confident in the little I am, unafraid to become the little I truly want to be. There are countless ways to have a relationship like this, and I want to explore them all with you until we find the one that fits us. I'm willing to give up my apartment and move in with you for this to work. I realize that this may not be the perfect time to start a twenty-four seven D/s relationship, but I don't want to wait for the perfect time because I need it now. I feel like I'm clawing at my insides in an attempt to escape this need. It haunts me, holding me tightly in its grip, and it hurts, keeping it inside, not knowing how to release it."

She was getting visibly upset, and it took everything in me not to rush over and hold her, knowing that we needed to have this conversation no matter how painful it was. My instincts begged me to comfort her, to whisper soothing words in her ear to dispel the tears that were building in the corners of her eyes. Her face was contorted in pain, expressing the weight of her need, and it hurt me to see her like that, my whole body aching with the need to stave off her unhappiness.

I knew I couldn't though. I couldn't allow her to cloud my head and influence the decision that I had to make, the severity of my choice making it difficult for me to find the right answer. I struggled within myself, trying to reconcile all the emotions flaring up inside, while I worked my jaw, flexing it as I mulled over the logistics.

I sighed, dropping my head down to my chest, one hand gripping a handful of my hair. Getting down to the root of my hesitancy, I knew I was less worried about her being ready than I was scared about the ramifications that embarking on the kind of relationship she had just proposed could lead to. The very thought of breaking our relationship beyond repair made my heart clench. If I agreed to her request, we would be living together, immersed in each other's space day and night, and if things didn't work out, I wasn't sure how we would come back from that.

I released a long breath, pressing my elbows into my knees and leaned forward, one foot moving to rest on the wooden rung of the stool as I raised my eyes to meet hers. "I need to know that you're not doing this—giving up your apartment and moving in with me—just for one half of our relationship. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if we jumped right into this without regard for both halves of our relationship. I'm asking you as my girlfriend, the independent, self-sufficient woman I know you can be, if you're ready for this. Does that part of you feel that moving in with me, your boyfriend, is the right thing to do?"

Every word that left my mouth was treated with the utmost care, the tension in the air stifling as we pushed and pulled against each other in a effort to find a happy medium. My emotions were turbulent, spiked with excitement and anticipation, but tampered with worries and uncertainty. Though my words may have seemed to have given voice to the opposite, I wanted the responsibility of having the control she so freely offered to me.

Ever since the night at the club after we'd had dinner with her family, there had been new stirrings inside of me. Where I had once been content to simply partake in her submission when the occasion arose, now resided a craving for more, for complete and unwavering submission. She had unleashed something inside me that was demanding and greedy. It lay close to the surface, mingling with the other aspects of my psyche, seeking out her submission and vulnerability. It wasn't something that could ever truly be tamed or fully tempered, yet just the thought of having the chance to have her constantly yielding to my will soothed it.

I could see that she hadn't been expecting my question, and I was grateful that she didn't answer immediately, instead she took the time to really think it over. I knew that we couldn't move forward in one part of our relationship, yet neglect the other. Our relationship was built on balance, and as soon as the scales tipped too far in one direction everything we'd built would come crashing down around us.

"I love you, you know that," she started. "And if you were anyone else then I wouldn't even contemplate giving up the kind of freedom that I get from living alone, but you're not anyone else, and I know on a deep and visceral level that you're...that you're it for me. Everything stops with you. You're not the last stop on the train, you're the station where the train rests after a long day, where it can find rest and just be without any pretenses or expectations. Being with you gives me more freedom than I have ever experienced. You don't smother me, you make me flourish, and as your girlfriend, I can tell you with complete certainty that I want to wake up every day next to you, to see our toothbrushes together in the cup by the sink. You have no idea how good it feels to come home to someone waiting for me, someone who's interested in hearing about my day, and as fucked up as it sounds, I look forward to the fights we'll have about trivial things like leaving the toilet seat up or screwing the lid back on the toothpaste."

Her declaration caught me slightly off-guard, the amount of emotion in her voice forcing me to really listen to what she was saying. I stared at her silently for a long moment, a feeling of warmth creeping up through my stomach. To see her unwavering faith, without the slightest hint of doubt in her eyes had my insides twisting and clenching in longing for what she had described.

The space between us suddenly seemed too vast, and unable to curb my need any longer, I pushed off the stool and moved toward her. I knelt before her and pressed my forehead into her stomach as my arms wrapped around her waist, a shiver creating a jagged path down my spine in response to the feeling of her. She was warmth and softness, the tug of her fingers as they tangling in my hair soothing, the gesture reminiscent to one that my mother had done for me many times as a child.

I couldn't form words, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth, the comfort of her touch the ony thing stopping me from shattering right there in her arms. I released a shaky breath and closed my eyes, watching the colors dance behind my closed lids as I swallowed back the emotion bubbling up. I felt overwhelmed, my mind bursting with my recent epiphany, the awe-inspiring moment forever captured and stored in my mind. For the first time, I allowed myself not to imagine it, but to see our future together. It was more than love, the three words not big enough to hold the depth of our feelings, and it settled in my heart, warming me from the inside out.

"Edward," Isa whispered, trailing her hands down from my hair until she was cupping my cheeks and coaxed my head up to look up at her. "Do you think I would ask you to do something if I wasn't fully confident in your ability to do it?"

Her question was so simple, and I accepted the fact that this wasn't something that she would easily back down from. She was confident and ready, prepared to take this step without a glance back. "No, you wouldn't," I admitted.

I sat back on my haunches before raising myself up onto my knees until our faces were level. I cradled her face in my hands, sweeping my thumbs across her cheeks, a sense of calm washing over me. I knew what I had to do and what I had to say, and my qualms evaporated in the face of that truth. "I intended for this to be a lot more romantic when the time came than its going to come out, but will you do me the honor of moving in with me?"

She gave me a cautiously optimistic glance. "You mean..." she trailed off uncertainly, not wanting to assume, but hoping she hadn't mistaken my words or their intent.

"Yes," I agreed, the corners of my lips turning up into a smile, allowing myself to enjoy the moment, the weight of the decision falling from my shoulders. "But this is probationary. I don't want us to jump straight into it only for it not to work out and end up with it affecting all parts of our relationship. I think if we go slow and steady then it'll give us more time to not only acclimate both us to sharing a space as a couple, but to find a balance that works for us as Daddy and little. I don't want us to rush blindly into this. Let's not forget that we've are both still pretty new to this dynamic. I think we should start out easy so we can adjust to the new shift and let it evolve naturally. It's also important to me that we reserve at least one night a week for dates so that we can connect and talk as a couple," I told her seriously.

I had barely finished instructing her on how I wanted things to play out when she flung herself at me, propelling herself off the couch and into my arms, almost knocking me backward. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chanted in a mantra, peppering kisses all over my face.

A choked laugh escaped her throat, and she pulled back, fanning her hand in front of her face and blinking back tears. "I'm sorry. I'm just so overwhelmed and happy," she explained, dipping her head down as she tried to get a grasp on her emotions.

"Hey," I murmured, taking hold of her chin gently, urging her head up so that I could see her face. I searched her expression, but even glassy I could detect the pure joy and happiness in her eyes, the film of tears making the emotions seem more intense. "I'm happy too," I admitted, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear, my expression soft. "I know I might not have expressed my feelings clearly and seem a bit reluctant, but I want you to know that I do want this as much, if not more, than you."

She gave me a coy grin, her dimples making shallow depressions on the curves of her cheeks, and reached up to palm my cheek lovingly. "I know. You're just being a good Daddy and watching out for me," she replied softly.

I wasn't sure that I could ever get used to her unwavering faith in me, the complete trust in her expression as our gazes locked enough to bring any man to his knees. It was humbling and cathartic, and I began to feel the same overwhelming emotions reflected back at me in Isa's expression. My chest felt both tight and loose as she shifted closer, pressing the length of her body flush against mine so that I could feel each curve and dip of her body against mine.

The hand cupping my cheek drifted down, grazing the thin stubble across my jaw in her journey south. It descended down to my throat, feeling the muscles contract and my adam's apple bob when she lingered. She shifted her hand, curling it, and curled around the back of my neck, closing the distance between us. Her warm breath fanned across my face as she tilted her head to the side, her eyelids drooping low, causing her lashes to cast shadows across her cheeks.

"Are we really doing this?" she whispered, casting her gaze up to meet mine. The question was bred from disbelief rather than insecurity, her mind clearly struggling to come to terms with the fact that she had obtained the one thing her very soul had been crying out for.

A smile curved up along the length of my mouth as a chuckle slipped past my lips. "Yes," I stated simply.

She released a long breath and laughed. She let her eyes flutter shut, her expression content and happy, and pressed her forehead against my own, any lingering tension evaporating from her body. Our noses brushed against each other in a series of eskimo kisses as we came to terms with our new reality. She pulled back slightly, her gaze darting down to my lips, and I held my breath, waiting, anticipating. Instead of kissing me, her upturned lips grazed along my cheek and her nose nuzzled the curve of my ear. My eyes fluttered shut as she doted upon me, laving my skin with attention.

I splayed my hands across the expanse of her waist, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin cloth of the sheets she was wrapped in. She seemed so small, the tips of my fingers almost able to meet around her waist. The feel of her was soft and delicate in my grip, almost as though if not treated in the correct manner she would shatter and break. I swallowed tightly, letting my hands make a slow caress down her body as they moved smoothly toward her fleshy hips and drifted around her waist to the full, ripe cheeks of her ass. I cradled them in my hands and coaxed her lower half forward, settling back on my haunches as she spread her legs and straddled my lap.

The hand not cupping the back of my neck traced a path over my shoulder before sweeping down across my chest. I watched her, mesmerized by the shape of her plump lips and the freckles on her nose, even the sweep of her dark, thick lashes and the flush of her cheeks held me bound. She was a work of art, better than I could have ever drawn or painted her. The details and shadows on my canvas were bland in comparison to the real thing before me. She was glorious to look upon, the angle of the sun streaming through the window making the sheet almost transparent. Her hair shined, every shift of her body making the messy waves swing lightly, causing the light to shimmer against it.

I grasped her wrist as her hand settled over my heart, wanting her to be able to hear it, to feel the throb of if through my chest and know that it was her doing. Before her, my heart had solely been an instrument to pump blood through my veins, but now she had revived it and it pumped life into me.

Our gazes locked, communicating things that couldn't be formed in words. The intensity of the moment gripped me, yet there was a peace that had settled deep within me, stirring parts of me awake that had lain dormant since I had been a young boy at my mother's chest. With it came a contentment and happiness that I embraced wholeheartedly.

My breaths were shallow as I gently grasped her jaw, unable to curb the need for her lips against mine any longer. She gasped lightly into my mouth as my lips captured hers before it slipped into a soft moan of want. I kissed her hard, feeling her lips give way beneath the force of my own as I coaxed them to move against my own.

Isa relaxed into the kiss, slanting her lips across mine while her hands grasped the sides of my face, pulling me tighter against her as she rose up, her shoulders hunching inward in her attempt to get closer. Though desperate and needy, we didn't rush, taking the time to explore each other's mouths with lips, teeth, and tongues. I fisted the sheet covering her body, my grip tighter than needed as I slowly tugged it from her body until it pooled down in her lap, leaving her upper half naked. We alternated between hard, desperate kisses and soft, needy kisses until our lips were swollen and wet. Isa tore her mouth from mine, her chest heaving as her eyelids fluttered shut, the need to breathe overtaking our passion briefly. Her breaths were unsteady and her nails dug into my neck as I splayed my hands across her back, cradling her against my body.

She rested her head against my shoulder for a long moment, her arms looping around my neck before a light giggle escaped her. Though I didn't know the source of her amusement, a grin turned up at the corners of my lips. I looked down at her, her head still perched on my shoulder as she pressed her face into it, peeking up at me coyly.

"What's so funny?" I questioned.

She shrugged. "I don't know, I'm happy. You make me happy."

She reached a hand up, twining it in my hair and using it as leverage to mold her lips to mine again before I could answer, the warmth of her confession lingering. She smiled into the kiss, her lips curving up against mine as my own reciprocated the movement. I soared, the feeling exhilarating in its simplicity, and we shared it, taking it and making it our own.

"I want to see it," she mumbled against my lips.

My brows furrowed in confusion, and I pulled back to look at her. "See what?" I questioned.

"The painting," she requested shyly.

I hesitated momentarily, suddenly feeling nervous about her reaction to seeing my work. I had shown her some of my other stuff previously, but this painting was an intimate representation of her through my eyes. She would be seeing how I saw her everyday, and I wondered if she would like what she saw.

"Well, its not quite done," I said, stalling.

She shrugged, unperturbed. "I don't mind," she answered.

I released a heavy breath and raked a hand through my hair before shifting our bodies so that I could stand before helping her up off the floor. She took my outstretched hand, wrapping her fingers around mine and stood, bringing the sheet with her. She pulled it up so that it covered her breasts and allowed me to lead her to the canvas.

"Close your eyes," I requested, and though she gave me a bemused glance, she obeyed. I guided her to the stool, letting her get situated on it comfortably before moving to stand behind her. My hand caressed her shoulders as I dipped my head down, letting my mouth hover by her ears. "Open your eyes," I instructed.

I watched with bated breath as her eyelids fluttered open, her gaze fixing on the canvas before her. She was silent, her expression betraying nothing as she stared at my painting.

"Is this how you see me?" she asked just as the silence was becoming too much for me, heavy as it was with tension.

"Yes. I took a little artistic license, I'll admit, but this is how my perspective of you looks."

She swallowed, her fingers twitching in her lap. "It's..." she paused, struggling to find the right words. "Beautiful."

I let out a relieved chuckle. "You are beautiful."

She smiled at that and twisted to look at me. "That wasn't what I meant. I mean you captured me in a way that conveys my personality and emotions. It's like you took a piece of my soul and drew it. That's what I find beautiful."

"I paint what I see, and when I look at you, I see your heart and I see your soul. It's in your eyes and your smile. It's in the way you bite your lip and the furrow your brow. It's in everything you do, and I know most people don't take the time to look, but I see it everyday, Isa," I told her.

"And I see yours. Even when you tried to hide it, I could see it simmering beneath the surface."

I looked away, feeling almost embarrassed, though I wasn't sure why. Isa had a knack for being able to worm her way deep inside of me and expose the parts of me that I tended to keep hidden. It made me feel self-conscious, but she always brought me back, grounding me in the way I needed. This time, she cupped my cheek, directing it toward her as she leaned up and kissed me, coaxing my lips to move until they acquiesced.

I knew the weeks ahead of us were going to be tough, there was no escaping the fact that we would both have to make big adjustments while also maintaining a balance between our home and outside lives. The added strain of work was not going to make the situation any easier, but I was beginning to feel confident that we would make it through. There was no future ahead of me that didn't include Isa, and it was with that, that I allowed myself to start forming a concrete plan.

Side note: I've written an outtake from Isa's point of view which is posted as a separate story on my profile. So, head on over if you want to know a little of what's going through her mind

**AN: There we go. Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: She would tell him if he did something she didn't want or like, wouldn't she?**

**A: Of course. Though she has been somewhat compliant to Edward's demands and instruction, it's only because they are within her own limits. That is why checklists are very important. If he ever stepped over the line, she would use her safeword.**

**Q: Will she get punished for pushing his buttons, or will that be it?**

**A: Nah, I think they both needed to relieve a bit of tension after the family dinner. So, while Edward might have later reprimanded her, there won't a punishment for that.**

**Q: Even if u not longer have a set schedule Please let me know that u plan on continuing with writing this story.**

**A: Of course! I'm just slowing down a bit since I will be starting a new job and working my butt off to get my life sorted. I'm still writing, but this way it gives me the room not to freak out about being behind on posting.**

**Q: Liam seems like a nice guy, is he gonna be a more permanent picture in this ****fic?**

**A: Sure. He'll be popping up here and there as the story continues.**

**Q: Will Laim or any of Edward's other friends going to find out about their ****Daddy/little relationship?.**

**A: Yes...no...maybe...probably *Shrugs***

**Q: We saw a little of Emmett (really only a line) but when will we get more of him?**

**A: In a chapter or two.**

**Q: So the club/alley scene...was that just Edward and Bella right (boyfriend and girlfriend)? I know they are trying to incorporate their DD/lg lifestyle into everyday life. It was more spur of the moment kind of thing but it felt like he was more Edward than Daddy Edward...**

**A: Very good question. In chapter seventeen, they discussed how he can be more than one of his personas at once. So, yes, he was partly Edward, but with some Dom and Daddy mixed into it.**

**Q: The primal reaction from Edward in response to Isa's game of cat and mouse was ****a bit darker than you have let him be previously. Will this become more common ****in their relationship? Will he be able to control it?**

**A: Yes, this part of Edward will rear its head more often now that he has unleashed it. He can control it as long as he is consciously aware of its presence. Plus, he would never willing hurt Isa or make her doubt herself or her place, thus creating boundaries in his mind that he won't cross.**

**Q: Will their intense sexual encounter against the rough brick wall, leaving scratches and bruised areas, cause him to second guess his ability to care for his precious little ****girl?**

**A: This is kind of a hard question for me to answer, but I mentioned his reaction in the Outtake posted on my profile. Isa persuaded him that it was what she wanted, bruises and all, and after a while he gave into the fact that he couldn't quite regret their little romp. He did become a little overprotective for a few days afterward until the bruises faded.**

**Q: Will Liam become a confidant in Edward's struggle with life and balancing his ****career and relationship?**

**A: That is my plan. It might seem weird placing an ex-priest and a sexual deviant together, but it works in my head.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A Pale Fire**

**Chapter 22**

**AN: Thanks to Bec Rose and Lostin Pa for prereading this sucker and torisurfergirl for betaing.**

**Playlist:**

**Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey**

**Heart's a Mess by Goyte**

**Over The Love by Florence and the Machine**

**Kill and Run by Sia**

**In The Past by Nero**

**Where The Wind Blows by Coco O. of Quadron**

**Daddy by Emeli Sande**

Her eyes met mine from across the room, her expression a mix of defiance and fear as I stood before her, minutes away from losing all semblance of control. I was almost trembling, my muscles coiled, waiting for the moment I lowered my guard enough to snap and attack her.

"Go to our room and wait for me there," I said tersely, pointing in the direction I expected her to go. She opened her mouth as if to argue, but one glance at my hardened gaze was enough for her to know that this was a battle she would definitely not win. A shrill growl built up in her throat, and she stomped her foot. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she whirled around, a sneer twisting her features as she flounced past me.

I sucked in a harsh breath, flinching at the sound of the door to our bedroom slamming shut and tried to reign in my temper. My hands clenched into tight fists, and I closed my eyes, forcing myself to count to ten before relaxing.

From the moment she had walked in through the door after morning practice, Isa had been acting out. She wouldn't do what she was told, she constantly ignored me when I was talking to her and had been snarky and bratty, purposefully going out of her way to disobey me.

Garrett had warned me that she would, at some point, test me to see how far she could push me before I snapped. His advice was to not let her manipulate a reaction out of me, that I needed to stay calm and focused as I put her back in her place. He said that her attitude stemmed from insecurity, whether it be about her place or from some other source—and until I addressed it, she would only get worse. I wasn't sure what had triggered this response from her, but any attempt to talk to her to find the source of the problem had been met negatively, her attitude worsening at my questions on her behavior.

Things had been going really well up until now, our talk about upping our play to a twenty-four seven relationship having bolstered Isa's confidence as she slowly began moving her things to mingle with mine in my apartment. The transition, while not seamless, had been going better than anticipated. Of course, there was some obligatory awkward moments, but we were managing to talk, explaining our frustrations or displeasures maturely before things blew up out of proportion.

Things had been going so well that I had accepted Madame Rosa's invitation to attend the play party that she was hosting at the end of the month. It was a prestigious invitation with some of the best Doms and Dommes in the city in attendance, and a welcome distraction from the long hours we had each been putting in toward work: Isa with the renewed intensity of orchestra practice and me with my impending showcase.

The party was both a daunting and exciting prospective, and Isa and I had talked extensively about using that night as an opening to really step up in our roles. I felt confident that the party was in a controlled, public environment that would be the perfect setting to test, not just Isa's, but my own abilities.

"Isabella!" I called out as I walked toward our room, reminding myself that I needed to stay focused and on task, though I felt much more calm after having let my thoughts wander down the path they had taken. I felt more rational and ready to face her now that I knew my emotions wouldn't get the better of me.

I paused in front of the bedroom door to take a deep, calming breath before entering the room. It was obvious that Isa needed more than a few reprimands to snap her out of her behavior, and I needed my mind to be in the right frame for administering any kind of punishment. She was laying face down on the bed, a pillow over her head, most likely stewing over the little tantrum she had thrown minutes before when I had told her to tidy the mess she had made in the kitchen while making lunch.

I stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed against my chest and sighed. "Isabella," I said softly, giving her one last chance to snap out of her behavior on her own, earning her a minimal punishment compared the one she was looking at right now. She barely even stirred at the sound of my voice, the only change being that the grip on the pillow over her head tightened.

I shook my head and pushed my sleeves up to my elbows, not liking what my next course of action would be, but knowing I had little choice in the matter. It was one thing to allow a few snarky comments to slide by, but her complete disregard of respect and obedience could not go by without some kind of reaction to show that I was in charge here, not her.

"Alright, I'm done coddling you," I muttered, moving to the side of bed where she was lying. I brought my hand down hard on her ass, catching her off guard. Her body convulsed, and she let out a muffled curse, her shock causing her to loosen her grip on the pillow enough for me to yank it off her and throw it off the bed.

I grabbed her ankle and pulled her down the length of the bed, ignoring her protests and flailing limbs until she was lying half off the bed with her ass at the edge. I let go of her ankle, quickly moving to press my knee along the width of her lower back, leaning my weight on it so that she was trapped. She continued screaming and fighting, and I calmly wrapped my hand around the back of her throat, anchoring her down.

I waited until she had worn herself out until I attempted to try and talk to her.

"You done?" I asked when she went limp against the bed.

She made a huffing sound; that was all the confirmation I needed as I used my free hand to unbutton and yank her jeans and panties down her thighs.

"What are the three things that earn you a spanking?" I asked, my voice level.

She kept silent, acting obstinate, which would only lead to an increase of her punishment. She needed to understand who was in charge in our relationship otherwise she was going to be in a world of pain. I spanked her ass hard, watching her body recoil and a strained whimper escape.

"I'm going to ask again because I'm feeling generous, but test me, Princess, and you will not like the results. Do you understand?"

She huffed and mumbled something under her breath.

I leaned forward, forcing more of my weight down on her. "I can't hear you. Speak up."

"Yes, Daddy," she growled, sarcasm dripping from her words.

This time when my hand came down on her ass I was rewarded with a howl. A sardonic laugh escaped me, the high of dominating her exhilarating. "You just aren't learning, are you?" I asked, allowing a little of the dark amusement I was experiencing to shine through my voice.

Since the night we shared in the alley behind the club, I had allowed myself to be a lot more aggressive and possessive with her, granting myself the freedom to truly allow myself to sink into the right mindset without worrying about losing control.

When Isa came to me with the request of being twenty-four-seven, I had started to realize that she needed more, more of what she had only caught a glimpse of in the past until I had unleashed it fully on her. It had emboldened me to give us both what we needed, and so far, her reactions had been very positive.

I rubbed my hand over her ass, her ripe cheeks already flushed with blood. I knew that there would be some bruising on her ass by the time I was done with the force I was using, but I couldn't bring myself to go easy on her. She needed to learn her lesson, and having a sore ass for a couple of days would be a sure way to remind her just who was in charge here.

"What are the three things that earn you a spanking?" I repeated.

I could see that she was struggling, both sides of her psyche fighting against each other. I was certain that the little in her was begging her to give into me, but I wondered if that voice was loud enough for her to take notice.

After a few long moments of silence she sighed, the tension in her shoulders draining as she gave in to me. "Disobedience, dishonesty, and disrespect," she mumbled.

"That is correct, Princess. Now, tell me, why am I punishing you?"

"Because I was bad," she mumbled.

"Be more specific," I ordered, waiting patiently for the words I wanted to hear.

She made a sound of what I gathered to be exasperation. "Because I wouldn't listen, because I lied, and because I was disrespectful," she answered.

"Let's not forget about how you went out of your way to disobey me, or the little tantrum you threw," I added.

She started to fidget, the guilt of her actions starting to settle in, making her feel uncomfortable. I removed my hand from the back of her neck and lessened the pressure I was exerting on her back, fairly confident that she had no intention of trying to escape. Brat or no brat, she knew when it was time to surrender.

"How many spanks do you think you've earned?" I questioned.

I didn't have to see her face to know that my question had thrown her off. She and I both knew that it was a trick question. If the number she picked wasn't high enough, it would earn her more spanks than I would have originally given her, but she would be unable to pick a too high a number due to having some shred of self-preservation.

"However many pleases you?" she guessed.

I chuckled, somewhat impressed by her answer. "Good answer, but that wasn't the one I was looking for. Give me a number, Princess."

"Tw-twenty?"

I sucked on my teeth and hummed in contemplation, watching the unease in her body language with a little bit of satisfaction, especially after the hell she had caused me earlier. "I think you've forgotten the temper tantrum you threw earlier," I told her.

"Twenty-five?"

I chuckled. "You really want to keep it in the twenties, huh? I think thirty is a better suited and more well-rounded number. You get ten for ignoring me, ten for disobeying and fighting me, and ten for your little tantrum. Sounds fair to me, don't you think, Princess?"

I could see that she was struggling to accept a spanking this size. Usually, I would give her a short spanking then make the rest of the punishment fit the crime, but I sensed that if I didn't nip her behavior in the bud now, it would come back with a vengeance. It was harsh, I knew that, but it was nothing less than she had earned. Plus, if I were to split this punishment then the second half would have to wait a few days since neither of us had enough free time until the weekend to dedicate to a scene, lessening the force of blow—no pun intended.

"I...Daddy," she whined pitifully.

"You've more than earned this, Princess. You attempted to manipulate a reaction out me, and you purposefully tested me to see how far you could push me. Your behavior, I'm sorry to say, has been less than stellar and it has disappointed me. That being said, I need you to understand that I'm not punishing you because I want to, I'm punishing you because you need it."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I'm sure you are, but I can't let behavior like this slide. Maybe this way you'll learn not to poke the beast, because you're the one who is going to end up getting hurt. Now, are you going to accept your punishment?"

"Yes, Daddy," she murmured softly, reluctance clear in her tone.

"Good girl. Now, I want you to thank me after every spank. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," she replied.

"Good. I'd say that this would hurt me more than it would hurt you, but I'm not the one who isn't going to be able to sit comfortably for a few days," I mused, shifting my weight onto the leg pressing down across her lower back in an effort to both ground her and keep her from wiggling around. Usually, I preferred to have her over my lap when I spanked her, but keeping minimal contact between us would cause her to feel more vulnerable.

I tugged her jeans and panties lower down her thighs to her slightly bent knees, leaving her ass cheeks and upper thighs bare and ready for a real spanking. I grasped her wrists, pulling them to rest just above where my knee was, one of my hands wrapped tightly around them to keep her from squirming too much.

"What color are you?" I asked, feeling her shudder as I ran my free hand across her ass, palming and caressing her supple flesh.

"Green," she breathed, her voice wobbling slightly.

It seemed as though we were both holding our breath when I pulled my hand back, letting it linger in the air for a moment before bringing it back down swiftly.

The sound of my hand connecting with her skin was sharp, the force I exerted making her flesh give way easily beneath it. She jerked, her back arching high and her hands curling into fists. I could literally feel the wave of tension that moved through her body, the high-pitched whimper she tried to restrain, slipping out in a choked whine.

"I'm waiting," I said impatiently, rubbing the mark that was forming where I'd just hit, the blood already rising to the surface.

"Th-thank you, Daddy," she stuttered, her voice strained.

She had barely finished getting the words out before my hand, once again, fell down hard on her delicate skin. Her reaction was much the same as it had been the first time, the length of my knee and calf along her back and my grip on her wrists the only thing keeping her down as she flailed and whimpered.

"Than-thank you, Daddy," she mumbled breathlessly, this time without prompting.

"A little louder next time," I instructed, massaging her cheek. I was careful to deliver each spank with the same amount of force, neither lessening or increasing it as I doled out her punishment.

My eyes stayed trained on what I was doing, making sure to keep a close eye on her reactions, her body language telling me enough to gauge her emotional and mental state since I couldn't see her face. I was learning to read her reactions and place a name on them so as not to push her further than her mind and body could take.

I could see that she was struggling, her mind not quite in the place it needed to be to be able to let go of the pain and sink into her submission. She whined and whimpered, protesting and squirming against me in between her words of thanks, the spanks I was giving her harsh and lingering, the intent behind each one clear, and the force bestowed upon her supported that.

I paused longer than she expected, the muscles in her body bunching up as she braced herself, the tension building up in her the longer I hesitated. I adjusted my weight, making sure not to make her uncomfortable by applying too much pressure on her body.

"What color are you?" I questioned softly, flexing my hand which was tingling and a little tired from the repeated impact against her flesh. I took a moment to take in the dark, almost angry color that her skin was turning and rubbed her abused skin, soothing it for a moment while we both gathered ourselves.

The subtle slowing of her breathing as she slowly unwound her tense muscles helped soothe any fears that had arisen in terms of her well-being.

"Green," she murmured, her voice tight and choked. I continued my ministration for another moment before I raised my hand and delivered a firm spank to her ass, the sound seeming to resound in the room.

She tensed, her breath hitching for a moment before she let out a grunt. "Thank you, Daddy." Her voice wavered, the tears she was suppressing rising despite her attempts to quell them.

A shudder rolled its way up her spine, making her arch slightly as I brought my hand down on a different spot.

"Thank you, Daddy."

She had reached the point where her gasping words of thanks were no longer forced and stilted, instead they embodied a searching desperation, a plea for forgiveness. There was a longing in her tone that begged for the surety of a balance that would steady her.

She fought to break through the barriers she'd built up, choked sobs forcing their way past her lips. I could only imagine how cathartic it must have been to be able to release all the emotions had that been clogging up, the spanking acting as a proverbial plunger, forcing it all out into the open.

She had since stopped struggling against me, accepting the pain as her penance, though her sobs had not dimished, instead escalating in noise. Still, I kept a steady rhythm, hardening myself against her cries. This was one of the harder aspects of being a Daddy, being able to see through punishments without caving to her tears and pain. I had to stay strong, no matter what she threw at me, otherwise she would use that weakness to manipulate her way out of other punishments at a different time.

If there was anything I had learned about littles, it was that even when they were unaware of it, they had a tendency to manipulate and use whatever they could to their advantage. They were sneaky little things, and Isa was no exception, batting her eyelashes and pouting to get her way. It was behavior that I refused to allow since, by default, she would be topping from the bottom, and I would no longer be in control, something that would knock the balance of our relationship askew.

There was a constant push and pull between us and every time she pushed forward, I had to push firmly back. The fact that I had failed to nip her attitude in the bud before she threw her tantrum was an oversight that I was man enough to admit could have been avoided. I had hoped that she would snap out of it on her own accord, yet she had done the opposite, getting worse instead of improving, the reason for which I was still not completely certain of.

"Th-thank you, Daddy," she hiccuped, her sobs softening into keens and sniffles as the spanking came to an end.

I pushed out a long breath, happy to be done. I felt drained and emotionally burnt out, my body wanting to do nothing more than curl up in bed and nap for a couple of hours. I pushed the urge aside, giving myself a moment to loosen my tensed muscles before rubbing some of the sting out of her ass, knowing that her aftercare was more important than my own exhaustion. "What color are you, Princess?"

"Green, Daddy," she breathed, her body trembling and her muscles reflexively tightening and loosening.

"Good girl," I murmured. "You took your punishment very well."

"Thank you, Daddy. I'm sorry," she whimpered, bending herself back into her rightful place.

I lifted her up, cradling her in my arms, her head immediately finding its spot in the curve of my shoulder. She nuzzled my skin there as I maneuvered us toward the head of the bed, settling her across my lap, her chest draped across my body and her legs curled up in my lap. She rested on her side, her ass facing outward, her position catered to keep it from touching anything. I took the lotion from my nightstand and started to apply it, hushing her soft whimpers as I massaged it into her sore and tender flesh.

I could tell that she was calming down and coming back into herself, my ministrations soothing her, not just physically but mentally. Her body relaxed into me, trembling lightly.

"Isabella," I murmured softly, not wanting to put off the conversation any longer than what was necessary. She replied with a soft hum of acknowledgement and curled tighter around my body, showing that she was lucid and aware of my presence. "I need you to talk to me," I told her firmly. "Why have you been acting out?"

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared up at me, her head lolling slightly as her teeth found their way into her bottom lip. Her eyes were red-rimmed from her tears and her cheeks were streaked with makeup, yet she was still more beautiful than any other woman I had ever encountered before.

"Did you really think that acting like a brat would get you the attention that you wanted?" I pressed on, needing answers.

I met her gaze steadily until she broke it, dropping her eyes down, her brow furrowing. She swallowed, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips as she gathered herself. "No, Daddy."

I remained silent, waiting for her to give me the explanation that I was clearly looking for. Her eyes darted up to meet mine, her gaze beseeching.

"I got scared and freaked out," she finally whispered, her voice cracking.

"Why?" I asked softly, prompting her to tell me more.

I slipped my slick hands beneath the back of her top, unhooking her bra before kneading out the knots and kinks that had formed in her back and shoulders while she struggled to answer. "I...I was talking to a friend, Jane, at orchestra this morning. She's first violinist, and while I wouldn't say that we were close, we talk. Anyway, I casually mentioned that I was moving in with you, and I don't know, she said something that just set me off. She has this way of getting into your brain and exploiting your weaknesses," she explained, yet it only served to confuse me.

"What did she say?" I questioned cautiously, digging the pads of my fingers into her neck and moving them in a soothing rhythm.

Her eyes shot up to mine and a small frown settled on her features. "It was stupid. I was having one of those days where I was already out of sorts and cranky, and she mentioned that if I wanted to keep you that I should watch my weight. She just kept going about how there were so many other women out there vying for your attention, and it got me thinking about the play party, and how there would be so many experienced subs and littles there. As I said, I was having one of those bad days, and my mind ran away with me, thinking up all these horrible scenarios that made my insecurities rear up. It overwhelmed me and..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, raising my hands in an effort to stop the verbal diarrhea that was spewing from her mouth. "Baby, you need to calm down."

She had clearly worked herself up, tears building up in the corner of her eyes as she relived the feelings all over again. "I'm sorry. I know I should have just talked to you, but even back then I realized how stupid my insecurities sounded. They made me feel inadequate, like I wasn't good enough, which just made things worse. I panicked, and I lashed out at you in some kind of passive aggressive attempt to get you to react and give me the assurance I needed."

I stayed silent, trying to decipher my own emotions about how I felt about what she had told me before answering.

"I wish you would have come to me before things got so out of hand. Your insecurities aren't stupid to me, and while I concede that sometimes they can be a little far-fetched, they are still important, alright?"

She nodded slowly, wiping a hand across the bottom of her eye to wipe away a stray tear. It broke my heart to see her so vulnerable, today a reminder of just how delicate she could be under harsh treatment.

"Good. I think we need to address each one of your insecurities and put them to bed. Do you think you can do that?"

She swallowed tightly, her big, brown eyes staring up into mine, so trusting and open. "Yes, Daddy," she said, fisting the front of my top tightly in her palms.

"That's my good girl," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Now, let's start from the top."

She inhaled a shaky breath, her eyes darting down, unable to hold my own any longer. I knew this was difficult for her, admitting and sharing what she saw as weaknessess and vulnerabilities, information that if left in the wrong hands could destroy her.

"She made me feel fat," she whispered. "That's why I made such a big deal about clearing up my lunch. It felt as though—in my warped brain—that you were judging me for eating and it made me feel guilty and bloated."

I sighed, hurting for my precious girl and hating that I couldn't reach inside of her and take away the years of pain she had endured. The teasing, the comments, and the looks she received that still managed to sometimes make her doubt herself, her body and her worth.

"Lift up your arms," I instructed her gently.

She let out this soft whine of displeasure, folding her arms across her chest in protection.

"Princess," I said in warning, coaxing her arms away from her chest long enough to pull her top over her head and remove her bra.

"Princess, what size are you?" I questioned, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it from her mouth.

She sighed. "Fourteen."

"Exactly. Do you realize that national average size for women is sixteen?"

She shook her head slowly.

"And baby, even if it wasn't, I really don't give two fucks about what people think is an ideal weight. I love your body just the way it is. You see these?" I cupped her breasts in my hands, groaning as I lifted them up, her ample flesh spilling from between my fingers. "I can barely fit them in my hands."

I palmed them, squeezing and caressing the soft, supple globes as my cock stirred awake. I tugged at her nipples, twisting them lightly once they'd hardened before lowering my head to take one in my mouth. I pressed a hand to the small of her back as she arched, groaning against her flesh. I wrapped my lips around her nipple, my tongue flicking across the swollen bud almost lazily before my teeth nipped at it softly.

She slipped a hand through my hair, keeping me anchored to her body while I paid her breasts their due attention. My hand played with the breast my mouth had left unattended, fondling it while I devoured the other before swapping and repeating the process. It was with great reluctance and an erection that was pressing uncomfortably against my zipper that I pulled away, my breathing shallow and my body wired.

I let my hands trail down her upper body, the skin so smooth and soft. "I love how soft your stomach is," I murmured as she squirmed uncomfortably against me. I knew what rubbing her stomach did to her, and I had to hold back a smile as she fought against the feelings that my ministrations brought. "I love rubbing my little girl's cute little tummy and feeling her squirm."

"Daddy," she breathed, her thumb finding its way between her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, and her breathing hitched. She had described to me how it felt when I caressed her stomach, and so I knew that she happily shrinking, becoming smaller and smaller until all her problems were much too big for her to carry, forcing her to hand them over to me.

I carried on my journey, allowing my hands to slip outward to her hips. "I love how fleshy your hips are. It makes it so easy to grab you by them when I manhandle you or fuck you. Your whole body was designed to take mine wholly, fully, and in any way I please. Dogs like bones, Isa, but men love meat." I told her sincerely.

"Thank you. I needed to hear that," she admitted.

"You're welcome. Now, what's the next one?"

She sighed. "That we would go the party and you would see better littles and realize how bad I am at being a submissive."

I frowned. "Do you truly think that if I saw other, more experienced littles that I would leave you for one?" I asked.

"No," she conceded. Not fully convinced of the severity of her statement, I changed tacks.

"Why do you think you're a bad submissive?"

She shrugged. "I keep disappointing you."

I shook my head. "You have never once disappointed me, Princess. Sometimes your actions and your behavior disappoint me, but you as a person have never disappointed me. You aren't perfect, I concede to that, but neither am I. I love that we are learning and navigating through this together. I make mistakes too. For instance, if I had dealt with your attitude earlier we could have avoided your tantrum and the harshness of the resulting punishment. That's on me as well as you, and I'm sorry I let things get so out of hand."

I felt trapped in her gaze like a fly in a spiders web, captured and bound, the intensity of her gaze as she tilted her back to meet my eyes enough to shift something inside of me. It was a new understanding that moved within me like tectonic plates shifting against each other beneath the surface of the earth, unseen to the human eye until the very foundation shook, forming cracks at the surface.

She reached a hand up, her touch almost hesitant as she pushed the tendrils of my unruly hair back, staring up at me with same kind of wonder that I was certain that I was reflecting. She was soft and warm against my skin, the feel of her fingers ghosting down the side of my face sending sparks of fire through my blood. She cupped my jaw, letting her nails gently scratch at my stubble while urging my head down closer to hers.

I wasn't even sure when it moved, but the hand splayed across the small of her back found its way along the curve of her spine, climbing its way up to the nape of her neck. She hummed, her eyelids fluttering as her head fell back into the cradle of my grip, her body arching, while the tips of my fingers tangled in her hair. She looked up at me from beneath lowered lashes, desire and lust clouding her vision and her plump lips parted, giving me a glimpse of her pearly teeth and pink tongue.

My lips dropped to the exposed column of her neck, the creamy flesh soft beneath my lips as I pressed open-mouthed kisses along its length. A hum vibrated through her throat, making my lips tingle against her skin. My free hand feathered its way to the curve of her hip, drawing patterns in a soothing motion meant to lull her further into a state of calm relaxation.

My head lifted, my eyes following the movements of her tongue as it darted out, swiping across her lips before her teeth sank into the plump flesh of her bottom lip. Our gazes locked onto each other and the tension in the room spiked. I didn't fight her—I had no reason to—when she pushed herself higher in an effort to meet my lips, instead dipping my head down to rest my forehead against hers.

Her fingers fluttered over my chest before clenching the fabric of my henley tightly in her fist. My muscles clenched in response, coiled and ready as I closed the distance between us, a shaky breath falling from my lips and my cock swelling.

I was practically trembling by the time our slanted mouths met, allowing me to indulge in the delicacy that were her lips. She sighed and visibly relaxed into the kiss, her body melting into mine as she slipped her arms around my neck.

I coaxed her lips into hard yet slow kiss, wanting her to feel every ounce of harsh, desperate need that I felt for her, and only her. She wasn't replaceable, and I needed her to know with complete certainty no other woman had ever been able to bring out the emotions and reactions she managed to.

Her fingers played with the soft hair on the nape of my neck as we continued our dichotomy of a kiss. There was so much passion, so much hunger laced in the kiss that the languid pace was almost frustrating, yet the softness of her mouth, and the warmth of them sinking through my skin quelled any attempt to quicken it.

A soft moan escaped her as I sucked the flesh of her top lip into my mouth, paying close attention to it as she nipped at my bottom lip in retaliation. A low groan rumbled through my chest when her nails bit into the back of my neck, and her tongue grazed over my lips, seeking entrance. The kiss deepened without any hesitance, our tongues darting forward to tangle together effortlessly, twisting and stroking languidly against each other in greeting.

Her hands drifted beneath my henley, a shudder making a jagged path down my spine and my muscles reflexive tightened, clenching at the touch of her skin.

She slipped her hand higher up my chest, dragging my henley with it until it got caught beneath my arms before tearing her mouth from mine. I barely had a moment to catch my breath before her mouth descended down my throat, teeth nipping and lips sucking a fiery trail downward. She tugged at my henley, silently requesting its removal. I grasped the hem, yanking it over my head and falling back onto the mattress, my arms above my head in a rare sign of submission.

She shifted, sliding her thighs to rest on either side of my hips and hovered over me. She tucked a few tendrils of stray hair behind one ear and gave me a coy smile before she returned her attention to my body. I propped myself up on my elbows, my breathing coming out in shallow pants as I watched her closely. My hands fisted the sheets in an effort to find some measure of control against the tease of her lips. I groaned, my back arching as she swiped her tongue over my nipple, knowing just how sensitive they were.

"God, you're killing me here," I grunted, threading a hand through her hair and wrapping it around my fist. I fought against the impulse to roll us over and take control, knowing she needed this moment, this chance to prove herself to be the woman she could be.

There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as she pulled back, giggling sweetly. "Would you like me to stop?" she inquired, speeking up through her lashes as she trailed a lone finger down the center of my chest to the waistband of my pants.

I swallowed, my adam's apple bobbing up and down and shuddered. "No," I mumbled, the words heavy on my tongue as my breathing stuttered. I couldn't help but squirm as she continued her path downward, the slow torture both agonizing and titillating. Her hands working insistently at my waist, tugging the the button of my pants free before lowering the zipper. My hips rose slightly to aid her in her quest to remove the last offending garment between us. My cock sprang free, slapping against my stomach as it throbbed and twitched, the red skin pulled taut around the swollen girth of my erection.

My breathing had switched from shallow to heavy, the cloaked desperation that coaxed me to take her, to make her mine, making me tremble with the restrain to keep it at bay. This was her moment, her chance to show me the confident woman that seemed to have slipped from her grasp momentarily today.

I groaned, my eyes rolling back and my lips falling slack for a moment as her warm fingers wrapped around me, fisting my cock tightly. She stroked me languidly, collecting the pre-cum dribbling from the almost purple, engorged tip as I thrust up into her palm. The hand still threaded through her hair flexed, and I released a shaky breath before swallowing tightly. My eyes squeezed shut and my head fell back, the subtle rolling of my hips up into her palm causing delicious friction.

I tugged her back up the length of my body, meeting her half way, her hands never leaving my cock as our lips crashed together sloppily. I pressed a hand into the mattress behind me to stop myself from toppling over, the intensity of her touch enough to bring me to my proverbial knees.

Unable to help myself, I captured her jaw in my free hand and directed her straying lips back to mine, thrusting my tongue into her mouth without any premeditation. She whimpered, rubbing her body up against mine, and I rutted back against her. Heat rolled off our skin, filling the scant space between us, while the air seemed to crackle with tension.

I tore my lips from hers, panting heavily as I closed my eyes and moved to rest my forehead against hers, our noses brushing against each other. One of my hands moved to her hip, clutching it in my palm as I tugged her closer until she was pressed flush against me. She breathed out a moan, not having anticipated my hand slipping between her legs when I drew her body closer.

I pressed the pad of my thumb to her clit, massaging it gently while dipping two fingers inside of her. What had once been languid turned desperate, the feel of her arousal coating my fingers and her walls clenching around them enough to break me down.

I was unprepared for her sudden movement, the force she put behind the push against my chest sending me back onto the mattress. Like any man with an aggressive woman on top of him, my cock twitched and my mind sprang to the many things she could have planned for me. In the months we had been together, I hadn't seen her this assertive and ferocious too often, I couldn't deny that I enjoyed her like this each and every time.

I may have been a Daddy and a Dom, but right now I was just a man with his girlfriend and that meant that I was going to enjoy sex any which way it came in. If that meant surrendering the reigns for a little while then so be it, but I also knew that she was aware that her control extended only as far as I let it.

Her muscles fluttered around me, stretching around the intrusion of my cock as she sank down into my lap, inch by wicked inch. Her tight, slick pussy enveloped me fully and our pelvises pressed flush against each other as I thrust up to meet her, one hand clasped on her hip.

I moved to raise myself onto my elbows, but a quick shove from her had me sprawling back against the mattress. Before I could even begin to form a complaint, she shifted her hips, rolling her hips upward. She pressed her hand firmly into my chest, using it as leverage as she moved over me, bucking her hips and bouncing on my cock. My hips flexed upward as she rolled hers down, sliding up and down my cock slowly yet purposefully.

There was a fire in her eyes, a burning inferno growing hotter and hotter with each rock and thrust of our hips. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders in thick messy waves, the delicate arch of her brow rising and her dark, swollen lips pulling into a smirk as she watched me from above, silently lording her power over me.

My jaw clenched at the challenge in her gaze, and though she had more control in this position, it didn't stop me from meeting each thrust with my own and pulling her down harder on me. Our moans and grunts of pleasure were drowned out by the slapping of skin, and I was delirious with lust. She ground herself down on me, her breasts bouncing as she twisted her hips slightly so that the tip of my cock hit deeper inside her, forcing a curse to pass through my locked teeth while she cried out in ecstacy.

Her nails scratched at my chest, sending sparks of exquisite pain through me and making me hiss and arch against her. My control snapped and I reared up. She cursed and hissed when I gripped her ass, her cheeks still raw and bruised from her earlier spanking, and lifted her with me. I kneeled, resting back on my haunches, moving my hands to grip her hips and thrust deep inside of her, filling her to the hilt. She gasped, but didn't hesitate to wrap her legs around my waist, digging the heels of her feet into my ass as I fucked her, my thrusts hard and rough.

There was nothing measured about the kiss we shared when our lips smashed together. Our teeth clanged, our tongues wound sloppily; it was harsh but passionate. Our lips seemed to meld together, fusing to each other as the kiss intensified, getting harder and more forceful. She cried out loudly as I bit down on her lip, drawing it away from her mouth before releasing it.

Her hands gripped my shoulders tightly, her nails digging into my skin harshly as she returned the kiss with equal fervor, her wet, warm tongue stroking alongside mine, skimming and teasing it. I was so drunk on the feel of her lips, her taste, and her scent, that my body practically trembled with lust. Our teeth clashed as we worked to devour each other, too hungry to taste each other that the need to breathe was almost forgotten.

We clawed and grabbed at each other, my hips rocking and plunging upward as I reached down, grasped the backs of her thighs, a part of my brain conscious of the fact that her ass was out of bounds today as I encouraged her to return everything that I was giving her.

I tore my mouth away from hers, my chest heaving as I sucked in some fresh air, my lungs protesting and my mind fuzzy. I glanced down, unable to stop the groan that erupted from me when I saw how perfectly we fit together, her small body taking in my large one, engulfing my cock in wet, tight heat. My cock glistened with her juices as she gushed down unapologetically onto me, our flesh red and swollen. Just seeing the way we became one was enough to spur me closer to my release, and I reached between us, sliding my thumb into her pussy, parting her folds as I sought out the engorged flesh of her clit, rubbing circles into her slick flesh.

"Oh God," she panted, tightening her hold on me, sliding one hand through my hair and burying her face into the curve of my throat. Her walls clenched down around me, her muscles fluttering when she shuddered against me. Her hands flexed from their position in my hair, grabbing handfuls of it as she tried to gain some semblance of control.

I could feel a tightening in my groin, and I slammed up into her, plunging my cock into her slick, tight pussy faster. I could smell sex in the air, taste it on my tongue and feel it dripping down my skin. It was her and me fused together to create one, and I wanted to stay like that, breathing her in, forever.

I couldn't quite pinpoint exactly when it happened, and I honestly didn't care, but watching her shatter in my arms, her body bowing backward in surrender and her plump tits jiggling wildly, was enough to pull me over the edge after her. In that moment, we both became unhinged, every taut cord keeping us together snapping one by one until we were left teetering on the edge of oblivion.

I jerked against her, the walls around me pulsing and squeezing, milking my cock for all it was worth as I pumped my cock erratically a few times before exploding, spilling heavily inside of her. My hips continued rolling up into her, prolonging the feeling of my orgasm, never wanting it to end.

Eventually, when I grew soft and her grip on me started to loosen, we collapsed gracelessly on the sheets. We lay, heat radiating off us and our limbs tangled awkwardly, trying to catch our breaths.

The silence was light in the air, swaying between us as I came back to reality, a smile stretching my cheeks. "God, we needed that," I mumbled, wanting a cigarette to help me cool down.

She giggled and leaned over my body, resting her chin on my chest. "If I had known sex was the key to getting me out of my funk, then I would have jumped you so much earlier," she murmured teasingly, her voice husky and her eyes still sparkling with latent desire.

I hummed in agreement, my mind flittering to the conversation we had been engaging in before we had gotten distracted. "I've been thinking," I started. "Maybe it's too soon for us to go to Madame Rosa's party."

I tried to sound nonchalant about it, sitting up and reaching for the pack of cigarettes in my nightstand as a distraction from the true weight of my words.

"What?" she questioned, looking adorably rumpled and confused.

I quieted an eyebrow and inhaled deeply as I lit the tip of the cigarette I had just tapped from my pack. I breathed out a plume of smoke and moved to sit with my back against the headboard before answering with a shrug. "I don't want us to go only for you to be worrying about everyone, instead of focusing on me. If you're too nervous then, inevitably, you're going to trip up and something will go wrong, which will do nothing but feed and confirm your fears and insecurities. I'm not sure I'm willing to risk that kind of setback, not when we are already trying to find a new balance in our relationship."

"No," she protested. "I know I can go there and make you proud. I'm sorry for how I acted today, and I guess that since you've been busy recently with your showcase, I felt like you weren't giving me as much attention as I needed, which fed my insecurities. But I can see now that my fears were absurd."

"Princess," I groaned, thinking we had been doing so well on the communication front only to find out that she had been holding back. "You have to tell me these things before they spiral out of control and you end up not being able to sit comfortably."

She sighed, raising herself up onto her elbows, pushing her hair back from her face as she regarded me. "I know, but you warned me that you would be busy, and it wasn't like you were completely ignoring me or anything. I just missed you being around all the time, waiting for me when I got home and sleeping in late with me when I had days off."

"I'm not perfect, Isa, and if you feel like I'm neglecting you then you have to tell me. I can't promise that I'll work less right now because things are a little hectic, but I can make myself more available to you and do more work from home so that I'm here," I told her, my compromise a solution that I was sure that she would like.

She was quiet for a moment before she nodded in agreement. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I murmured, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

"If I had known it would be that easy to get you to be around more I could have saved myself a lot of pain," she groused unhappily, causing me to chuckle.

"Use this experience as an lesson, and just be grateful I'm not grounding you," I told her as I pulled back the sheets and gestured for her to climb beneath them next to me. She crawled up next to me, snuggling up against my chest as I tucked her in.

"So, we can go to the party?" she asked, searching for confirmation.

I made a noncommittal noise and took a drag of my cigarette. "We'll see. If you can prove to me that you're ready, then yes. I also don't want you talking to that Jane girl. I don't like people upsetting my girl."

"Yes, Daddy," she said. "I don't feel like I say this enough but thank you for protecting me and keeping me safe."

I smiled. "That's my job, Princess. Daddies take care of their little girls, even if it means turning you over my lap for a spanking."

"And that's why I love you. I know you don't like punishing me, but the fact that you are able to put my needs before your own endears you to me," she admitted.

"You make me feel needed and important by being your Daddy. If the toss up is that I have to punish you once in a while, then I'll take it."

"You do the same for me, make me feel needed and important."

"And that's why we work so well together."

She twined our fingers together on my stomach, her small fingers engulfed by my large one. "Some might even go as far as to say we were perfect for each other."

"Perfectly imperfect," I corrected her.

She hummed in agreement. "Our own brand of perfect imperfectness."

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

"I'd never dream of wanting it different."

I leaned down, unable to help myself from kissing her chastely. "Good."

She pecked me on the lips in retaliation. "Better."

I chuckled. "The best."

**AN: Leave me some love!**

**Q and A time!**

**Q: Will they consult Garrett about moving together and what to expect? **

**A: They will, but I'm not sure if I will write it in the story**

**Q: Will Carlisle be ok with Isa moving in?**

**A: Eh, he doesn't really get an opinion on it. Plus, he's resigned to the fact that Edward doesn't need him as much as he used to.**

**Q: Will they go to the the party that Madam Rosa is hosting?**

**A: of course! I'm itching to start writing that chapter.**

**Q:will Bella's independence be a deterrence in the long run? Or will she eventually want to be completely dependent of Edward? I'm wondering since she still has a job, and while it isn't as demanding as a full time job, I don't want her to stop working, it**

**gives her certain focus and that little time-put she might not realize she**

**needs to be just Isa and not Daddy's little one.**

**A: Its a great question that I actually need to address within the story. Isa is coming into a season where she will be juggling both orchestra and volunteering, which, let me tell you, is no easy task. As someone who has volunteered in the past, I can tell you that its like having a job, but without the pay.**

**But rest assured, part of being a good Daddy means making sure your little has the right kind of balance. If she has too much of one and too little of the other, the balance will shift until things become uneven and will just fall apart. Yes, she will become more dependant on Edward, but she will continue to work and be the confident, independent woman we met at the beginning of the story when she is out and about in the world. Let's just say that for every hour she spends "at the office" she spends an equal hour at home.**

**Q: Are we gonna see them fight over something silly like the toilet seat or the toothpaste or dishes in the sink?**  
**A: I'd love to write that. I guess, I'll just have to see if I can fit it in somewhere.**

**Q: Is Isa going to bring up the play party and shopping? I can't wait to get the**

**details.**

**A: I'm thinking of doing an outtake with the details of that since I'm going to skim over them.**

**Q: Edward brought up some valid points about their upcoming hectic schedule. How**

**do you see them being able to balance it, especially with how dedicated and**

**isolated he is with his art?"**

**A: As we saw in this chapter, it isn't going to be easy, but as I said earlier, its all about balance. As long as they make time for each other in whatever capacity they are able to and are willing to make compromises then it should all be fine.**

**Q: I'm wondering what the first obstacle will be that they face in the new**

**arrangement of 24 /7 daddy/little?**

**A: This chapter kind of answered this question. Her insecurities were their first obstacle, but there will be more obstacles...**

**Q:How many of Isa's friends are aware of the special side of the relationship**

**between Edward and herself?**

**A: Ultimately, none, but I working up to her admitting it to Alice and then we'll take it from there.**

**Q:Will you write of an antagonist, male or female, that tries to come in between**

**Edward and Isa?**

**A: Yes and No. There will be an antagonist, but her motives are not quite clear to me as of yet.**


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